Absolution
by Milieva
Summary: At the end of his tenth life, the things the Doctor wants most are forgiveness and a chance to make things right, but if fate grants him his one last wish, will he be able to keep from breaking Rose's heart all over again?
1. Prologue: Starts With Goodbye

**Author's Note:** As I have decided to start adding some of my Doctor Who fanfiction onto this account, I thought I would pick personal favourites. This is my current project. I was struck by the idea a short while after watching _The End of Time_. I simply could not accept the ending we were given, so I decided another story needed to be told.

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Prologue: Starts With Goodbye

Love is neither patient nor kind, he thought bitterly as he collapsed in the snow. In all the short expanse of this life, there had been very little time love was ever kind to him. Love had stolen his life, his heart, his soul, and left him a hollow shell of the man he thought he had once been, the man that had died on the beach in Norway when he sent his soul away with the woman he would have given his life for.

How many times can you say goodbye to the woman you love before your heart is numbed to the pain?

"Go home," she'd said to him this time.

Only she had no idea how far away that was, or even, for that matter, how close.

Home was no longer a long lost planet with a burnt orange sky. Just as home would never be the silly blue box that was bigger on the inside. Home was a blonde from a council estate. Home was the one person who never lost faith in him though she had every right to. Home was the one person he had wronged beyond all chance of redemption.

And his home was lost forever.

He climbed to his feet, wishing he had one more year, one more month, one more day, or even just one more minute, to make things right.

There were so many things he hadn't tried yet, so many ways he could find her, get back to her, tell her how terribly sorry he was and beg for her forgiveness. Most broke all laws of time and space, and more than one would end the entire universe the moment he succeeded, and yet a tiny portion of him said it would be worth it, if only he could see her one last time.

Staggering in the TARDIS, he wanted to curse himself and his own folly. He'd made perhaps one of the biggest mistakes he could have made, and it had only gotten worse.

He didn't just need someone there to stop him.

He needed _her_ there to hold his hand. She made him better, made him see the good, the bad, and the wonderful.  
Why had he never realized how much he still truly needed her, wanted her, _loved her_, until it was too late?

He should have let her in farther, let he know who he really was and see what he was capable of, all the times he had terrified even himself.

He should have accepted her return and not sent her away the moment the opportunity presented itself. Even though the arrangements seemed so perfect, it was inevitably flawed, because he couldn't play god with other people, no matter how hard he tried.

He should have found another way to get back to her, and fix his mistakes.

He should have done so many, many things that he would never get a chance to do, for someone else was going to take his place.

But he wasn't ready to go yet.

There should have been a better way.

He stood straighter waiting for the burning touch of death and wishing, just once, he would die having lived life to the fullest and proud of the legacy he was leaving behind. There was nothing worse than dying with regret in your heart and knowing you could have done better.

He could have done _so_ much better.


	2. Second Chance

_Sometimes goodbye is a second chance  
--Shinedown--_

**Chapter One: Second Chance**

His mind and body were on fire as he staggered through a room both familiar and strange in the same instant. Voices and faces danced in a kaleidoscope of colours through his reality and he tried to reach out a hand to the one person who was no longer there.

_Go home_, she kept repeating to him. _Go home_.

He stumbled, his feet refusing to do as they were told.

_Your friend? The one you lost? Did she trust you?_

His head felt like it was splitting in two.

_Look at the hand - I love that hand - but then you touched it. Wham!_

He was being pulled apart at the seams by a tailor with a very dull blade. He squeezed his eyes shut, as the pressure behind them built, and he fear the heels of his hands wouldn't be enough to keep him together.

_You're not mating with me, sunshine!_

The faces around him doubled, tripled, _…my timey-wimey detector. It goes ding when there's stuff_, quadrupled, and kept multiplying as the words pulsed through his brain, shutting out any other sense or feeling. They swirled around him, shouting and raving.

_She's not just living on a parallel world, she's trapped there._

He was burning and freezing and being torn inside out as two separate sets of memories tried to find some way of reconciling themselves.

_Instantaneous Biological Metacrisis!_

It was too much for him to handle. His knees gave way and he fell hard to the ground. His temple cracked against something sharp on the way down, and the world turned blood red before fading to black, taking the voices with it as it melted away.

*.*.*.*.*

There were other people around him when he first came to, but he wasn't quite sure how many because anytime he tried to focus on just one, that person blurred and became two or three quite similar-looking, blurry figures.

"You alright, mate?" one asked.

He was quite sure the voice came from the blond spiky one to the left of him, but he couldn't quite be sure. It could have come from the other blond spiky one beside the first one. He squinted in an attempt to clear his vision, but only came up with more of a head ache, which wasn't at all helped by the sudden flash of torchlight in his face.

With a moan he turned his head away from the offending beam, muttering "One hell of a right hook."

"Yes, that bookcase is quite a fighter," the right spiky one laughed. Or was it the left one? Maybe it was both of them.

Two sets of arms hauled him upright and held him as he tried to steady his feet underneath him. Blinking, he tried in vain to get his eyes to focus properly. The entire room swam before his eyes, making him feel so terribly nauseous he chose to shut them again and let these people lead him where they willed.

Dizzy and disoriented, he found himself being helped to lie down on a bed.

A different voice than the first one asked, "She's on her way?"

"Yeah, I called both of you when I found him," answered the spiky one.

Thoughts and memories began to reassert themselves, collecting and connecting in his mind. The myriad of disembodied voices were revived as he tried to maintain consciousness.

_If they get back in contact… If you talk to Rose… Just tell her… tell her ... _

He moaned as the pain pulsed through his brain again. The fusion scorched and blistered as his synapses fired. His head was burning.

_You woke me up too soon_.

The heavy weight of the darkness sank down on him once more. He fought against it, but it still drowned out the lights and sounds. Unable to keep it at bay for more than a few extra seconds, he finally relinquished his battle and accepted the blackness, hoping it would bring relief.

*.*.*.*.*

The next time he came to, he opened his eyes to find they could almost focus properly. He blinked at the ceiling and wall a few times before a wonderfully familiar voice said, "You're finally awake. I was beginning to worry."

He turned his head to find Rose sitting in a chair beside the bed. Part of him registered the chair as being from the dining table in the other room, but he couldn't remember what that table looked like for the life of him.

"So, what did you do this time?" she asked, holding out a glass of water to him.

Sitting up cautiously, he accepted the glass obediently and took a long drink before handing it back to her. He looked down at his hands, turning them over and then back again in disbelief. Nearly slapping himself in the face he felt his cheek bones, his nose and his hair. He should have regenerated, his mind was screaming. Why on earth was he still the same?

"Fine, don't tell me," she said, setting the glass down on the bedside table and leaning forward to study him.

"Rose, it's me," he said, unable to believe that this was really happening.

"I know it's you," she said, rolling her eyes at him and looking generally exasperated. "You just have a cut on your forehead. It's not like you disfigured yourself or anything."

"No! I mean it's me," he repeated, patting his chest. "The Doctor."

She sighed and shook her head before gravely saying, "I think you hit your head a bit too hard."

He opened his mouth to counter her argument, but she deftly waved a hand to silence him.

"You're not him. You look like him. You have most of his same memories. You even sound like him most of the time, but you are different. You are human and not a Time Lord. You need to remember that."

"I'm human?" he asked, his voice jumping an octave as he pressed his palm firmly against his chest.

Only one heart beat beneath his hand. It quickened in pace but it never changed to a rhythmic double pulse. His eyes widened in horrified surprise. What had happened to him?

"Oh, you've really done a number on yourself," Rose said calmly. "Yes, you're human."

She stopped and rubbed her forehead, and he realized she looked exceptionally tired, as if she'd be up half the night.

"Let's go through this again," she began. "You're human, so you need to do human things, like eating. You need at least 2000 calories per day, preferably 2500 because you really don't need to be losing any more weight. You also need to sleep at least seven hours a day."

She paused a moment.

"Is that what happened this time? You forgot to sleep again?"

She looked at him expectantly, but he just stared at her with his mouth agape, not quite sure what to say or how to react, so she just continued her instructions.

"Don't forget personal hygiene. You always seem to forget that your body doesn't work like you think it does, or you don't care. I really don't know, but you need to shower more than once a week, especially when you've been out on the field. _And_ you need to brush your teeth at least once a day, preferably in the morning if you're not going to do so at night as well. You have terrible breath when you don't. I honestly don't know how your girlfriends stand it."

"G…Girlfriends?" he stammered.

With yet another sigh, Rose shook her head and slowly explained, "You've been with nearly every girl who works in Catalogue and Storage Unit B. You honestly can't have forgotten all your conquests."

He swallowed hard and found himself feeling quite ill. The very idea of being with someone intimately, someone other than Rose at least, made him uncomfortable, sick even. All that talk about Queen Bess was really just that, talk. Sure he'd had a lark and gone and married her for the hell of it, but it was never consummated. He didn't have the nerve.

How casually Rose spoke of his relationships wasn't at all like her.

_You just leave us behind. Is that what you're going to do to me?_

'Conquests' she called them. Was he honestly that conceited to think of relationships or even just relations for that matter as conquests?

Looking hard at Rose, he imagined how painful it would have been to see her with other men.

Feeling horribly sick, he staggered out of his bed and fell to his knees in front of his little waste paper basket, vaguely thankful for the bin bag as he emptied the contents of his stomach into it.

"Are you alright?" she asked with concern as she moved closer to him.

He became acutely aware at how well she was keeping her distance. She was close enough to be comforting but careful not to touch him.

"Where am I?" he asked, not really to her, but to life in general.

The last thing he remembered before he was here was his death on the TARDIS. He had never been a religious man. He was always more interested in proving things with science, so a God or an ultimate force was never something he had believed in. He had seen all manners of devils and demi-gods, but never before had he believed there could be a true hell, until now.

"Your room," she answered slowly. "In your flat."

"My room," he parroted, wiping his mouth with his sleeve as he looked back at the narrow bed, just big enough for one person.

An overwhelming flood of thoughts and suppositions filled his mind as he found himself speaking the very first question that came to him in the midst of all this confusion.

"But where is your room?"

"In _my_ flat."

"I don't live with you?"

He was astounded by how desperate his voice sounded, terrified and lonely.

None of this was making any sense. All his memories were conflicting, distorted, and jumbled up like they were pebbles in a jar and someone had come and shaken them up. He looked at the walls and windows, trying to place this room and what it meant, but he couldn't remember it right. It was familiar but at the same time it wasn't.

When Rose finally spoke again, she did so very carefully, each word obviously thought out to be as simple and straight forward as she could manage.

"We haven't lived under the same roof since we both left the mansion. That's been nearly two years now."

"How long did we live there?"

"Those first three months after the Doctor left us here."

_You made me better. And now you can do the same for him._

The heartache in her voice hit him like a kick to the gut. With each of her words the loose and confusing bits of his consciousness clicked into place and he began to realize just what it was that was happening.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered.

She looked at him warily with a cold measure eye, almost as if he were some sort of a threat rather than a friend.

_I just can't do this. Every time I look at you… I can't. I won't._

What ever she thought of him, she didn't respond to his apology, she just continued to size him up.

"Oh, Rose," he breathed. "I've made a horrible mistake."

Reaching up a hand, he tried to brush his fingers across her cheek in a gestured he'd used tens of dozens of times before, but she sharply struck the familiar hand away and leapt to her feet, effectively putting her out of his reach.

"We're not doing this again," she spat bitterly.

"Doing what?" he asked, not finding any connections to the scattered new memories in his head.

_You're not him. You'll never be him_ He heard and saw her crying in his head, as some old painful scene reasserted itself in the forefront of his mind.

Rose shook her head and walked out of the room.

Struggling to get his body to cooperate with his brain, he pulled himself upright with use of a bookcase and the wall. He staggered to the door of his room and held tightly to the doorframe as he called after her.

"Rose, please."

She froze at the door, her hand hovering over the knob when she turned around slowly.

"You are not him," she said firmly.

"But…"

With a shake of her head he saw her fight back the tears of an old pain, and he swallowed his words. There was nothing he could say to her that could make this right. No amount of apologies would redeem him.

"You have my number," she said finally. "Ring me when you remember who you are."

Within moments he was left staring at the door, hating himself all the more for what he had done to her in the name of what was good and safe.

_I spent all that time trying to find you, I'm not going back now!_

Stumbling back to his bed, he threw himself at the pillow waiting for sleep to claim him, and wishing he could never wake up.

*.*.*.*.*

Unfortunately he did wake up. Not terribly long after he'd fallen into a fitful sleep his bladder chose to assert itself, rather painfully. Practically falling out of the bed, he held tightly to the wall as he walked out of his bedroom, frantically looking around as he tried to remember where the loo was.

The first door he opened was a storage cupboard filled with clean linens and camping gear. Quickly shutting it he turned round in the hall and opened the other door, ecstatic to find the tiled room beyond.

Scrambling forward, he yanked his trousers down and relieved his bursting bladder, deciding that being human was going to take some getting used to.

He refastened his trousers and methodically washed his hands, taking stock of the condition of his nails and skin, noticing both were in worse shape than he normally kept them. Shutting off the water, he looked in the mirror to find that Rose had been right about him having cut his head. There was a small gash just above his right eyebrow and someone had obviously cleaned it and put little bandages on it to keep it closed.

Tentatively he reached up to touch it, but pulled his hand away quickly. It really hurt.

"Feeling better?" a voice asked from the hall.

The Doctor recognized that voice, but he was still a little surprised at who he found standing there.

"Jake?"

"Where you expecting someone else?" Jake laughed, leaning back against the wall.

"But what are you doing here?"

"I live here."

"Oh," the Doctor said quietly.

He had assumed he lived alone if he didn't live with Rose. It had never occurred to him that he might be living with someone else.

"Don't look so excited about it," he teased before checking his watch. "I'm about to meet Mitch and Jess down the pub if you want to come. You look like you could use a drink."

"Alright," the Doctor agreed, switching out the light and following Jake to the door.

Pausing at the door, Jake turned around and pointed back to the table.

"Wallet and keys," he reminded, as if he'd had to do it hundreds of times before.

The Doctor followed his gesture and saw a rather plain wallet and a set of keys sitting on the dining table. Backtracking for them, he picked up the wallet and opened it to find a Torchwood ID, one credit card, a gym membership card and a few notes. Slipping it into his pocket he made his way back to the door, studying the key ring.

"I have two keys," he stated in mild confusion.

Jake rolled his eyes and opened the door.

"One's Rose's."

"Really?" he asked holding them up as he pulled the door shut behind them.

"Yes," Jake laughed and pointed to the one with a red flower drawn on it. "Obviously."

"Why do I have a key to her flat?"

"In case something happens and someone needs to get in there, I imagine," Jake explained as he lead the way down the stairs. "Her mum has one too."

Considering the keys for a few more moments, the Doctor tucked then in his pocket and followed Jake through the outside door. He wanted to ask more questions about Jackie and Rose and everything else he had missed but he wasn't sure how well that would be received. He thought it best to wait between his series of questions.

It was easy just to pretend he was an idiot, only he couldn't carry it too far without someone deciding he had suffered some catastrophic brain injury and needed hospitalization.

Mitch and Jess were obviously people they knew from working at Torchwood. At least that was what the Doctor assumed as some little errant thought in the back of his head placed them there. The four of them found a table in a corner so it was easier not to be overheard and they could discuss work a little more freely.

Mitch bought the first round and started to gossip about the floor he and the other two worked on. The Doctor quietly listened to them as he drank.

Two rounds later, the Doctor was quite pleased with the effect the alcohol was having on him. He felt much more relaxed and rather numbed. Spinning the liquid in bottom of his final pint he found himself thinking more about Rose, and how she was when she'd had a bit to drink.

She was always giggling and having a good time.

Then again all his memories of her were of a woman vastly different than the one who had been in his flat earlier today.

"You alright, mate?" Mitch asked, patting him on the shoulder in concern.

His words pulled the Doctor out of his memories. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"You looked so far away there," commented Jess, her face also a bit worried. "Something wrong?"

"Rose," Jake said sagely, sharing a knowing nod with Jess and Mitch.

"You just need to make a move," Mitch declared. "Either she still wants you or she doesn't, but there's only one way to find out."

"I don't think she wants me," the Doctor sighed, downing the last of his beer.  
"How do you know?" Mitch asked.

"She as much as told me so."

Jess rolled her eyes and looked at him sternly.

"I've seen the way she looks at you, Doc," she said. "She's still gaga over you, you know."

The Doctor blinked at her. That wasn't the impression he'd gotten from Rose earlier. Was there something he was missing? Was she still in love with him? Was that why she was so angry when he said who he was?

"You really think so?" he asked eagerly.

"Oh, definitely," she nodded. "I don't know why you two ever broke it off in the first place."

"Or why you slept your way through CS-B," Mitch piped in.

With a groan, the Doctor laid his head down on the table. He didn't want to be reminded of that little detail just yet. What had his other self been thinking?

The Doctor and his love life remained the topic for the rest of the evening. He learnt quite a bit about the girlfriends Rose had mentioned. He learnt more about her job and that she had an upcoming promotion. Eager to find out more about himself as they knew him, he prodded them for more information.

When all was said and done, he and Jake staggered back to their flat together.

"Sorry about them," Jake murmured as they reached their door. "I know you and Rose didn't go anywhere for a reason."

"No, they were right. I should do something."

"But isn't she still in love with _him_, the other you, the parallel universe you or whatever he is?"

"Jake," the Doctor stopped and looked him straight in the eyes. "I am _him_. I'm the other one."

Jake narrowed his eyes and looked at him. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," the Doctor said.

A bright, drunken grin spread across Jake's face as he slapped him on the shoulder.

"That's fantastic. You have to tell Rose."

The Doctor merely muttered something in agreement and made his way to his room where he collapsed on the bed, and wondered briefly if this was all just some sort of strange cruel dream. If tomorrow proved it real, he swore to take his friends' advice and do something about it.

He'd never know if he did try, right?

**_To be continued…_**


	3. Persuasion

_"He that has truth in his heart need never fear the want of persuasion on his tongue" _

_-- __John Ruskin__--_

**Chapter Two: Persuasion**

The morning's arrival was not at all pleasant after such a long night out. At least that was the lesson the Doctor learned when the daylight woke him, mocking his aching head with its bright beams. Burying his face in the pillow, he cursed the sunlight with a rather broad array of words. Next, he cursed his other self for not putting up any draperies on such a large ghastly window, and then he cursed his new human body and all the difficulties that apparently came with it.

Gone were the days of his wonderful Time Lord metabolism.

Unable to escape the cruel burning hands of the morning sunlight, he crawled out of bed and crept toward the one dark corner away from its wicked reach.

Unfortunately, he had forgotten the waste bin which also happened to occupy that particular corner. The remnants of yesterday's stomach purging had obviously fermented overnight and the stench hung like a thick miasma in the air.

Stomach threatening a repeat performance, he hastily crawled away, escaping his room altogether for the quiet secluded shadow of the sofa. Flopping down on the floor, he swore to himself that he would never drink so much again.

Later, he was unsure just how long he'd lied there, but eventually he decided he needed to pull himself together and do something to counteract last night's stupidity.

Step number one was hydration.

Yes, that was it. Hydration.

Carefully climbing to his feet, the back of the sofa acting as support, he staggered into the little kitchen for a glass of water.

Nearly a full liter of water later, he decided he was definitely going to survive, and if he was going to survive, he would need to eat. If he didn't eat, Rose would be angry with him.

But if he was going to eat… _what_ should he eat?

Glancing around the kitchen his eyes fell on a small bunch of bananas. One banana was a good start. Bananas were rich in magnesium and potassium. Peeling back the skin he took a large bite of it and considered refilling his glass again.

Brain function reviving a bit more as he made his way through the first banana and debated on a second, he started to think on what had been discussed the night before. Most of last night was just as vague and blurry as everything around him at the moment, but he did recall rather positive encouragement toward his possible pursuit of Rose.

He hoped they were right.

Pulling another banana from the others, he decided he should think about a proper breakfast. Bananas were good, but they didn't constitute a proper diet. Two bananas put him at around 200 calories. It would take quite a few more to hit the 2500 Rose wanted him to have.

Once he'd finished the second banana, he made another visit to the toilet, and wondered about the control this body had on him.

He was at its mercy.

Right at this moment, his body was urging him to curl back up in a little dark corner and go back to sleep. The only problem was he didn't want to go back to sleep. Humans slept life away. They lived less than a century and nearly half of it was spent unconscious.

Instead of sleeping he decided he could do a little housework to pass the time. The flat was definitely in need of a cleaning. He wondered how long it had been since anyone had actually hoovered the carpet, much less scrubbed the toilet. The console room of the TARDIS was evidence that he didn't necessarily keep everything tidy, but at the very least nothing was covered in grim.

There was a big difference between disorderly and unhealthy.

He had a feeling the current state of things were bordering on the later.

Walking back into his bedroom, he plucked the putrescent bag out of the bin and carried it at arms length out of the flat. Even without his highly evolved Time Lord senses, it smelled positively awful.

By the time Jake finally decided to emerge from his room, the Doctor had washed the sheets from his own bed and was busy washing down the kitchen cupboards.

"What are you doing?" Jake asked as he scratched at the back of his head.

The Doctor looked up from the unusually shaped stain beside the cooker.

"Cleaning," he stated matter-of-factly.

"Obviously," Jake said. "Why?"

Looking back at the stain and then down at the scrub brush in his hand, the Doctor actually wondered himself. Outside of the fact that most every surface in here needed a good wash down, he didn't have a good reason why he was doing it right this moment.

It was a habit he'd had for some time in this incarnation. Well, at least the incarnation he had been before he woke up to find he was in his human doppelganger's body.

When he'd been stressed or upset, he would find things to occupy his mind. Most of the time it had been tinkering with the TARDIS' various systems, but occasionally when she wasn't happy with him rewiring or modifying circuitry, he'd had to find other things to keep his thoughts from his troubles. One thing which worked quite nicely was intensively scrubbing down just about anything he could get his hands on.

It was mindless and repetitive, and he could put in as much concentration or lack of it as he wanted.

"That's a very good question," the Doctor responded finally.

Sitting back on the floor he looked up at Jake, trying to think of a way he could express his reasons without getting too personal.

"I suppose I just don't want to sleep."

Jake looked at him in concern.

"You need to sleep, Doc. The last time you didn't…"

"I've slept," he argued.

"You don't look like it," Jake commented as pulled a mug out of the cupboard by the sink.

"_And_ I don't feel like it," the Doctor agreed, pulling himself to his feet.

Dropping the scrub brush unceremoniously on the work top, he decided sleep might be a decent option, especially since he didn't want to talk.

Bidding Jake a good day, he shut his bedroom door and flopped onto his mattress. One of his last thoughts before he drifted off was that he should do something about the lack of window coverings. His room was too bright.

*.*.*.*.*

Evening found the Doctor waking with a feeling of optimism. Sleep had left him feeling revived and even happy.

He laid in his bed staring at the golden rays of sunset on his wall in bemusement. He'd slept half the day away. It had been years since he'd slept so long, not since his last full regeneration. It was definitely not something he was used to.

Climbing out of his bed for the fifth time in the past two days, he walked out to make his new, waking trip to the loo before deciding what he was going to do with himself now that he was awake.

Once his bladder was relieved, his stomach decided it was time to make a plea for sustenance and led its owner into the kitchen, where he began to riffle through the cupboards and the fridge.

His quest for food was rather unsuccessful. In total, he found that one cup of ramen noodles, a packet of biscuits, two different types of mustard, a jar of orange marmalade, one bag of crisps and box of tea constituted their entire food supply. He wasn't even counting the one banana he'd left earlier, because it was already eaten by the time he'd concluded his search.

Peering into the lounge he asked, "Why don't we have any food?"

"Because we don't cook," Jake said simply, not moving his eyes from the television screen.

Wrinkling his lip in disgust, the Doctor decided that this simply wouldn't do. He wasn't going to subsist on ramen and condiments. He needed real food. What he really craved right at that moment was a full Christmas dinner. Turkey and gravy and just about anything else that went with it.

"Why don't we cook?" he asked.

"Because you can't and I don't want to," came another curt answer.

The Doctor opened his mouth to argue that he could cook and that he was quite good at it, if he said so himself, but he quickly snapped his mouth shut as he came up with an idea of how he could convince Rose of who he was.

It was a rather good idea.

Brilliant in fact.

If his other self couldn't cook, that would be just one more mark in his favour when it came to proving he was the original Doctor and not his metacrisis-created twin.

Having ample amounts of time to kill while his human companions were sleeping, he had become quite skilled in the kitchen during this and previous incarnations. More than once, Rose had actually assisted him in his more ambitious endevours. That one dish from Qwerti was one of the more exotic ones he'd attempted.

It had nearly ended in flames.

Pacing across the kitchen floor he started to plan how he would use that skill to his advantage.

He could make her dinner. Yes, that was a good idea. He could make her dinner and that spice cake she loved. He hadn't made that spice cake in some time now, not since before they had helped the Isolus get back its brothers and sisters.

Overwhelmed with his own enthusiasm, he practically ran back to his bedroom.

Throwing open the wardrobe door, he shuffled through his clothes. One thing he had to say about the other him was that he still had the same taste in clothes. Various suits, trousers, jackets, shirts and ties were hanging on the rail. He smiled and shifted them until he found a shirt he liked. The dark blue one.

The next thing he found was a pair of brown trousers similar to his favourite suit. He searched for a matching jacket but couldn't seem to locate one. Perhaps there wasn't a jacket to go with them.

Deciding he could forget the jacket, he hunted down a decent looking t-shirt to wear underneath the shirt and grabbed the cleanest pair of trainers to complete the ensemble.

Quite satisfied with his choice of clothing, the Doctor set them out on the bed and began to shed the shirt he'd been wearing since he'd woken up in this world. The removal of it made him wrinkle his nose for he found there was one more drawback to a human body. It had a tendency to gain a rather troublesome odor.

That would never do.

Dropping the offending shirt on the floor, he sauntered through the lounge and into the bathroom. Hastily yanking his t-shirt over his as he crossed the floor, he reached out to turn on the water. He then sat down on the side of the tub and tugged his trainers off.

As he shimmied out of his trousers looked down at his fully naked human body for the first time. Completely bared, he realized it wasn't exactly what he was expecting, but didn't investigate further. With a shrug, he kicked the last bit of clothing away and stepped into the shower. He'd give things a proper look later.

Now, he just needed to be clean so he no longer smelled funny.

Once he was scrubbed quite thoroughly, he quickly climbed out of the shower, grabbed a towel and set about drying himself off as quickly as he could.

He slipped back through the lounge and was still drying himself when he returned to his bedroom.

Carefully donning the clean clothing, he walked back across the lounge to the bathroom to take a look at himself in the mirror. He looked very good, sexy even. Taking both hands, he messed with his hair, tossing it this way and that, trying to get it right, but unfortunately it was longer than he was used to.

Walking back out into the lounge he asked, "Do we have any scissors?"

Jake waved at the kitchen and said, "Far left, top drawer."

Returning to the bathroom mirror with the scissors in hand, he cut at his hair, trying to make it regain the shape he had become so used to. Once it was back down to the proper length, he worked a few styling products in to give his mop its signature wild look.

Even after it was correctly styled, he still had one or two hairs that needed trimming before he was completely satisfied.

Hair issues resolved, he realized he needed a shave. A few days worth of stubbly facial hair wasn't necessarily his best look. Fortunately, a razor and shaving foam were quite easily found in the cupboard.

When he finally emerged from the bathroom, feeling quite dapper, Jake looked up from the television screen and raised an eyebrow at him.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"I… I'm…" the Doctor stammered, scratching the back of his neck in a sudden fit of embarrassment. "I am…going to see Rose."

Jake turned back to the television and jerked the controller in his hand as something exploded on screen. "It's a bit late for that, don't you think?"

"I've only been here a few days," the Doctor argued. "She'll at least give me a chance to explain myself."

"No, I meant the time. You'll have to go tomorrow," Jake explained, again pulling back on the game controller and blowing something else up on screen.

"Oh," the Doctor breathed and turned toward the little digital display on the microwave.

Apparently he'd spent nearly three good hours getting himself ready, meaning it was well past a decent hour for him to call on Rose at her flat. Annoying her by showing up on her doorstep at night wouldn't be the best way to start things off on the right foot, or even start things at all, as he was likely to just get a door slammed in his face.

He wanted her to be in a pleasant mood and receptive when he explained who he was and apologized to her.

Unfortunately that conversation was not going to happen today, as today had obviously passed him by. With a heavy sigh he skulked over to the sofa and dropped down beside Jake, who was fighting what looked to be very nasty creatures on what was supposed to be an uncharted planet but looked more like an earth desert.

"You look nice, though," the other man added before shouting, "Where the hell did that come from!" as a large ferocious lizard leapt out from behind a shrub and pounced on his little character.

"Thanks," the Doctor muttered glumly.

*.*.*.*.*

The following morning he woke bright and early so he would have plenty of time to get dressed and over to Rose's flat before she left for work.

Putting back on his clothes and quickly fixing his hair, he rushed out of his flat with the sheet of paper Jake had written Rose's address on. He'd also scribbled down the stop on the underground and few other instructions.

The Doctor had no trouble finding Rose's building with Jake's notes. Then again, having a little map on his phone made things simple, as well. The doorman nodded to him as he walked in and he thought he heard him say "Good morning, Dr. Smith."

Taking that as a good sign that he was in the right place, he practically skipped to the bank of lifts.

Rose's flat was as far away from the lifts and as close to the stairs as one could get in the building, which was actually a rather intelligent choice, he thought, but he hoped she would never have any need for a quick getaway.

He turned his key in the lock and opened the door, calling out, "Hello? Rose?"

A voice called out that she would be finished in a moment.

Walking forward, the Doctor shoved his hands in his pockets as he took the place in. His first thought was that it smelled nice, feminine even, most likely from a candle or fragrance spray. What ever it was, it was a change from his flat, which had an odd lingering odor of general maleness, or maybe that was just the lingering odor from retching in the corner.

Sofa and tables in the lounge were sleek and stylish, as was just about everything else in the flat. It was neat and tidy and looked nothing like the place in which he apparently dwelt.

He was still standing just inside the lounge when Rose walked out of what looked to be the bathroom.

"What happened to you yesterday?" she asked, only half paying attention to him as she walked across the room to gather her handbag and phone from the dining table.

"I was hungover," he explained absently, cocking his head to one sideand finding himself mesmerized by the gentle sway of her hips.

"Ah," she said. "I assumed it wasn't anything dire because I didn't hear from anyone."

The Doctor blinked at her in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"Still having memory problems?" she asked, worried. "We meet every Sunday for coffee at the café round the corner."

Her words were as slow and careful as they had been two days before.

The concern in her expression was only amplified when the Doctor asked, "We do?"

Rose took deep breath to calm herself then patted his arm gently, saying. "I think you should go home and rest."

"But," he started only to be cut off.

"Fine," she conceded, not willing to start a fight she didn't have time to finish. "Stay if you like. There are a few things in the fridge, but I really need to go. Are you you _sure_ you're going to be alright?"

"I'm fine."

She didn't look convinced.

"Really. I'm fine," he repeated.

With a sigh and a shake of her head, she opened the door and warned, "Just don't blow up the microwave again."

The comment left him momentarily speechless, as he tried to think of all the possible scenarios that a microwave would explode. Not one of them ended very well. Thus he stood with his mouth agape as she walked out. Her final words were a comment about having fed someone and him not having to worry about it, which left him even more perplexed.

This visit hadn't gone at all as he had planned.

Shoulders slumping, he stood staring at the door for a few more minutes in disappointment.

His despair was quickly replaced by surprise and slight discomfort when something entwined itself around his legs and purred.

_**To Be Continued….**_


	4. Mixed Signals and Broken Rules

**Chapter Three: Mixed Signals and Broken Rules**

When Rose opened the door to her flat, she didn't honestly expect the Doctor to be gone, even though a part of her hoped his was because he obviously wasn't well.

Experience had taught her he would likely still be lurking around somewhere, waiting for someone he could safely talk to about something that bordered on unusual or fantastic without being looked upon as an idiot or a nutter.

She quite often told him he was both, but they both knew she didn't really mean it.

What she was not expecting was what she found.

It started with the pungent aroma of various spices that wrapped around her proclaiming some home cooked meal, which was something her kitchen hadn't seen too many of.

Setting her handbag on the little table by the door, she rounded the corner to find her dining table set with a nice tablecloth and all the trapping which went with it. She briefly wondered where he'd procured the candlesticks until she remembered she's been give a set by a workmate who'd be transferred overseas and was pawning things off on nearly everyone in her unit.

"You cooked?" she asked incredulously as the Doctor cheerfully appeared from the kitchen, with a little brown cake in his hands.

"Soup," he said triumphantly with a nod toward the kitchen and a little wave of the plate he was holding. "And cake."

Cautiously walking toward her own kitchen she glanced one last time at the flowers on the table in mild confusion before braving what sight she might find on her cooker.

To her great astonishment, nothing was burnt. All the cupboards still had doors on them. The ceiling was still entirely intact, and any mess that might have been there was evidently tidied up and put away.

"You cooked," she repeated, her brain still not yet willing to process what she was seeing.

"Yes, I did," he said slowly, imitating her reactions to his uncharacteristic shock and amazement. "As I recall, you happened to like my cooking."

"But you can't cook," she stated firmly, backing away from him and the evidence to the contrary.

"He couldn't?" he asking in utter disbelief. "Seriously?"

The Doctor looked over at the steaming pot on the cooker as he set his cake on the table. He tried to think of a time he hadn't known how to cook. It was always just a matter of will as opposed to knowledge. There were often various futuristic machines on the TARDIS which took care of the cooking, so it wasn't as if he used the skill set terribly often, though he and Rose had taken a liking to using one of the TARDIS's more cozy kitchens every so often.

It had never occurred to him that his doppelganger might be completely hopeless in the kitchen. Then again it had never occurred to him that he would become a bit of a playboy either.

Rose shook her head and took another step backward, mumbling something about needing a shower as she turned and practically ran into her bedroom.

"I told you this was going to be difficult," he said to the fluffy white face looking up at him from the floor.

The cat mewed in response, looking quite unmoved by the whole thing.

*.*.*.*.*

Nearly a half hour had passed before Rose emerged from the bathroom with her hair still slightly damp and having donned a soft pair of pyjamas. She warily looked at the Doctor as he stood up to greet her again.

"Fine," she said carefully. "I'll play your game."

The grin that spread across his face was usually contagious, but as infective as his smiles usually were, this one didn't reach Rose. She narrowed her eyes as she stood her ground.

"One rule," she said.

"Yes, of course. Anything," he hastily responded, unwilling to give up any possibility of a chance to show her who he was.

"This," she said, waving a hand rather low in front of her body. "This isn't going to happen."

His eyes widened in surprise as he registered what she was saying. He found himself ashamed that she would assume his motive in coming here was sexual. That thought had honestly never even crossed his mind. All he had wanted was to prove to Rose that he was her Doctor, not the man he'd left on the beach for her. Everything else could wait.

"Of course not," he agreed, pulling out a chair for her.

Rose visibly relaxed at his acceptance of the rule. She cautiously walked toward the table and sat down in the chair. She exchanged a nervous smile with him as she opened her napkin and set it delicately in her lap.

The Doctor disappeared back into the kitchen and quickly returned with two steaming bowls of soup.

"I still can't believe you cooked," Rose when he set the bowl in front of her.

Cautiously, she lifted the spoon to her lips and found herself transported back to happier days aboard the TARDIS when she and the Doctor would spend time mucking about with various ingredients in one of the kitchens.

"You act like I've done some amazing feat," he laughed, sitting down across from her with his bowl.

"I'll say," she smiled. "My building is still standing."

"I only simmered vegetables in broth. Soup is not the most difficult thing to make."

Though he tried to sound defensive he couldn't help but smile at her. So far things seemed to be going well. He had quite a task ahead of him, but he wasn't too terribly worried. This was Rose. She would know him eventually. It was only a matter of saying the right thing at the right time, or doing something so terribly him, she couldn't deny it.

"Besides," he said. "I did have ten hours to kill."

"You could have watched the telly," she offered, nodding toward the item in question.

"Nah. Daytime television is rubbish."

Rose lifted her spoon out of her bowl thoughtfully. Instead of bringing it to her mouth, she let the vegetables fall back into the bowl.

"You can't have just cooked all day."

He grinned at her with an ornery look that challenged her to ask him exactly what it was he had done all day. It was the same expression he used to get on his face when she caught him out when he'd said he'd been working on the console the entire time she slept.

They both knew it wasn't true.

"So what did you do all day?" she asked.

"For starters, I did your wash."

Smiling at the shock that shot through Rose's eyes, he scooped a rather large spoonful of vegetables into his mouth, so he couldn't answer right away if she asked him another question.

"You did my wash?" she repeated, looking at him like he'd just grown two heads or had turned blue. "Did it survive?"

He nodded and shoveled more food into his mouth. Some little portion of him loved to see her looking so perplexed. Another smiled tugged at his lips as she just stared at him with her mouth slightly agape.

"I folded and put it away, too."

"You did my wash," she said again, perhaps trying to fully process the information.

"And I cleaned out the cat box."

That did it. Rose not only looked at him like he had grown that second head. She scrutinized him as if he'd not only grown a second head, but it was telling her the not only was the Earth flat, it was actually just a dinner plate used by the Klaxton emperor.

"You what?"

"I cleaned out the cat box," he repeated again, pretending he thought she was quite daft for not remembering what he'd said.

He just let her stare at him for a moment before curiosity got the better of him.

"Why _do _you have a cat?"

She narrowed her eyes as she studied him. He could practically hear the gears in her head working as she tried to comprehend him.

"Jess's cat had kittens last year," she said finally.

"So she gave you one?"

Rose nodded, still unsure of him.

The Doctor glanced over at where her cat was resting on the arm of the sofa, watching the two of them in mild interest, and then back at Rose as he was struck by the familiarity of the name she'd mentioned.

"Wait. Jess? Is she short with really curly dark hair?" he asked, gesturing with his hand to illustrate the word short.

"I don't know any other Jesses," she said.

"I know her!" he exclaimed. "I met her the other night at the pub."

Rose laughed at that one, and he had no idea why. He gazed questioningly at her. It was the truth. Why was it so funny?

"You go out with her and everyone else nearly every weekend," she smiled.

"Really?"

With a nod, Rose smiled and shook her head at him, but didn't say another word on the subject. She just continued the laugh at him as she ate her soup. She had nearly emptied her bowl when she noticed the glass of wine sitting to her right. Tentatively taking a drink of it, she looked back up at the Doctor, her eyes still twinkling with mirth.

"You didn't ask me his name," she said.

"Whose?" he asked in surprise, finding himself looking desperately at her hand hoping he hadn't been as stupid as he'd been with Martha.

A horrible sick feeling grew in his stomach when he couldn't be sure he was or wasn't seeing an engagement ring. It took ages before his fears were assuaged by two short words.

"The cat."

He sighed in relief and looked back over at her furry little friend. Two golden eyes looked back at him.

"Okay," he said, taking the bait. "What is his name?"

"Bingley," she informed him with a grin.

"Bingley?" he asked, not quite sure he'd heard that right. "As in Charles, 'Netherfield Park is let at last', Bingley?"

"None other."

It was his turn to laugh. Scratching the back of his head he took a closer look at her little white cat. She would have never known that name, if he hadn't read the book to her.

"We named the others Darcy, Knightly, Tilney, and Lizzie," she said cheerfully as she took a good long drink of her wine.

The Doctor raised his eyebrows. "All Austen names?"

"Thought we'd have a theme," Rose laughed, setting her glass down and eyeing the cake.

The Doctor quickly swallowed his latest mouthful as he leapt to his feet and asked her if she wanted a piece as he reached for the knife. At her nod, he plunged the blade into the cake and sliced her a piece and held it out to her. Her fingers brushed over his as she took the plate from his proffered hand.

Her touch made his breath catch in his throat and his heart pick up pace. He met her eyes for a split second as she set the plate on the table then hastily turned his attention back to the knife and the cake.

"So, you're still an Austen fan then," he said, his voice a bit higher than he would have liked.

"Yeah."

Sloppily plopping another slice of cake onto his own plate, he hurried back to his seat. Rose delicately used the side of her fork to cut a small piece which she carefully lifted to her mouth. The Doctor was on the edge of his seat watching her. his lips expectantly.

She hummed in delight as she chewed, making him smile and ask, "Do you like it?"

She nodded enthusiastically. "It's like that one we had on…"

"Fen," he finished. "I had to substitute a few ingredients, but it's basically the same."

"I think it's gorgeous," she gushed before taking another eager bite.

He beamed at her from across the table as she took a fourth and fifth bite of his confectionary creation. He moistened his lips expectantly as she pulled the fork slowly out of her mouth, capturing any crumbs with her tongue before going back for another bite. So mesmerized was he by her mouth, he didn't even register that she was speaking to him until she harshly said his name. All he saw were the beautiful lips moving.

"What?" he asked, snapping his attention back up to her eyes.

"I said I don't like Pride and Prejudice," she repeated, smirking at him as she had another bite of her cake and purposefully took her time drawing the fork back between her lips, keeping eye contact with him the entire time.

Swallowing hard, he tried to keep his mind off Rose's mouth or any other part of her body for that matter, which was easier said than done.

"Why not?"

Rose didn't answer straight away, she finished her cake and cleaned her fork. Picking up her glass and the bottle of wine she motioned toward the sofa.

"It's not the same," she said, sinking in the soft cushions with her newly filled glass.

Cake in one hand and glass in the other, the Doctor obediently followed her and set his glass down beside the wine bottle that he might be able to eat.

"Because I'm not the one reading it to you," he teased, nudging her playfully.

With a laugh she shook her head.

"No. It's actually different."

"How so?" he asked through a mouthful.

Looking thoughtful for a moment, Rose sipped her wine and drew her feet up underneath her.

"Well, for one thing, Elizabeth marries Bingley."

Very nearly choking to death on his fork, the Doctor sputtered at her in disbelief. "Who marries Darcy then?"

Coyly taking another long sip of her wine, Rose smiled at his reaction. "Emma Woodhouse."

"But that's an entirely different novel!"

"Apparently not anymore," she giggled.

"I don't believe you," he stated obstinately as he sat back and ate a bit more of his cake.

"I'll prove it," she said and downed the rest of her wine before she set the glass back down on the coffee table.

The Doctor listened to her bare feet pad across the wooden floor as she disappeared into her bedroom for a few short moments before returning triumphantly with a paperback novel. She bounded around the sofa and held it out to him.

Taking one last bite, he traded his cake for the book. He opened the novel and began to scan through it, picking up the minor and major differences almost immediately. Rose on the other hand, settled back into her cushions again and began to eat his cake, while he read.

He squinted to see the words clearly. True he'd noticed he was a bit more nearsighted in this body, but he didn't think it was this bad.

The cushions shifts slightly as Rose stood up again. The fork clinked on the plate as she set it down and walked over to the small bookcase in the corner of the lounge. When she returned, she deftly placed a pair of reading glasses on his face, and then picked back up the cake.

"Don't eat all of it," he commented, flipping through the next few chapters.

Just to spite him, she took a very large bite and flaunted it at him, trying her best to stifle a giggle.

"That was my piece," he whinged, looking back up at her and what was left of his cake.

Still chewing her massive mouthful, Rose cut of a small portion and held it out to him with his fork. He wondered if she realized she was imitating the marriage customs of Fen, offering him to eat from the same utensil she was using. It had been so long since they'd been, he couldn't remember if he'd told her about that particular tradition or not.

With an obnoxious pop of his lips, he pulled the bit of cake off the fork and grinned at her.

Rose just smiled at him as polished off the rest of piece of his cake in one fell swoop. She laughed when he let out a little sigh of disappointment.

"There's more on the table," she reminded, refilling her glass and leaning in closer to look at the book with him. "Do you believe me yet?"

He flipped between two pages and looked up at her in disbelieve and almost horror when he proclaimed, "Mary marries Mr. Collins."

"I know," Rose agreed, grimacing at the thought and offering him a drink from her glass.

"I have my own," he stated abruptly, taking it up from the table.

She had laid out the rule for the evening, and he was planning to abide by it. Things might get a little complicated otherwise.

"Apparently," he started. "I cooked, cleaned and tinkered a bit. What did iyou/i do today?"

Snapping the book shut, he cast it back onto the table and looked at Rose, giving her his undivided attention.

"I had yet another lovely chat with Mrs. Harrison," she laughed.

Her expression was one she often used when referring to a joke the both of them knew. Her eyes sparkled with mirth as she grinned at him. Her cheeky smile was complemented by the flush from the alcohol.

She looked so utterly adorable; he couldn't help smiling back at her despite his ignorance of her reference.

"Who?" he asked, chancing ridicule.

She sipped from her glass before breaking into a story about a woman whose husband had had some strange parasite growing in his head. He started to suffer headaches. When he finally went to see his GP about it they found a puncture wound, and then a scan revealed the thing living on his brain.

That was when Torchwood was called in.

The procedure to remove it was actually quite straight forward and the man was able to return to his family a few days later.

"So, everything was alright then?" the Doctor asked. "No lingering side effects."

"His wife said he had some changes in behavior afterward," Rose said.

Sipping his wine thoughtfully, the Doctor went through all the possible scenarios he could think of for personality changes. The one he kept coming back to was how utterly different Rose had been when Cassandra had inhabited her body.

"Did he snog her senseless?" he teased.

Even though it hadn't been Rose at the time, for some weeks he had a hard time keeping the memory of that kiss out of his thoughts.

"Oh yes," Rose laughed facetiously. "And made her go weak at the knees like he hadn't done in years."

She rolled her eyes at him and shook her head.

"No. She's come in again, asking if I can put it back in him," she corrected, still laughing. "Cos she liked him better with it in."

"No?"

"Yes," she smiled and emptied her glass before waving at him to fill again.

"I think you've had enough," the Doctor said quietly, lifting the glass out of her hand and setting it back on the table.

"Maybe you're right," she agreed as she looked over at the nearly empty bottle. "Where was I?"

"She asked if you could put it back in," he prompted, still finishing his own wine.

"Right. She wanted us to put it back in because he was so helpful while the parasite was feeding off him, cooking, cleaning, and the like. He was a perfect little house husband."

The last bit came out almost teasingly as she reached forward and touched the front of his shirt, pressing her palm to his chest as if to be sure he was still who she thought he was. Her voice was a little more distanced as she continued.

"They had four children, so having him willing to do the household chores was a blessing."

"That's something I've never understood. What is it with some males of your species feeling they are above housework? Who ever said that cooking, cleaning and tending children was for women alone?"

Stroking the collar of his shirt thoughtfully, she looked up at him with hopeful eyes. Her mouth opened and for a short moment he thought she was going to proclaim that she believed him, but she shut it again, without a word.

"It is me," he pleaded, hoping perhaps she might be willing to see it.

Her lip trembled as she took a deep breath to quell unuttered sobs.

"How can I know."

He sighed heavily in defeat. That was a question he couldn't answer. Looking down at her tearful eyes, he was struck by a sudden feeling of hopelessness.

"I don't know."

She nodded slowly accepting that answer, and then leaned forward to pour herself another glass of wine, apparently ignoring his warning from earlier. Settling back into her pillows she nursed her drink.

They sat in silence for a few short moments before she asked him, "Do you remember that one planet with huge veranda?"

Now that was a pleasant thought. Oh, definitely remembered that planet, and what happened on the big veranda. The memory quickly erased any feelings of inadequacy. That had been a fantastic adventure.

"The one with the hammocks?" he asked, leaning a little closer to her, brimming with hope and excitement.

"Yeah," Rose agreed.

A flush coloured her cheeks as she combed her hair back with her hand, looking like she was trying to think where she was going with this conversation.

The Doctor laughed and ran a hand though his own hair as he commented, "I remember we learned those hammocks weren't made to hold two people."

"As I recall, it held us fine until you decided to get creative," she grinned, the edge of her tongue peeking out at him.

"That last one was all you," he argued, looking just as cheeky as ever.

"No, it wasn't."

Rose shook her head forcefully, still smiling.

"It broke after you…" she let the words drift off and laughed, unable to help herself.

"That's not fair. That was definitely not the only reason those ropes broke."

The two of them considered each other seriously for the briefest of moments before dissolving into a fit of giggles. Even back then they had determined it was the fact they had gone three times that broke the ropes, which obviously weren't made to hold the weight of two people to begin with, especially not two people actively entertaining one another.

One voice became dead silent as its owner intently studied her companion. She seemed to be trying to take everything in, his face, his hair, maybe even his mannerisms.

"Doctor?" she asked, brushing his cheek with her fingertips, her voice and touch both unsure.

"Yes?" he grinned, trying to reign in his enthusiasm.

Rose smiled hopefully before she firmly pressed her lips against his.

That was more than enough for the Doctor. The moment she released him from the kiss, he had wrapped his arms around her and returned it.

As he leaned forward and the two of them sank down into the cushions of the sofa, a little voice in the back of his head was screaming at him. It warned him about Rose's rule and that she might believe now, but who knew what tomorrow and sobriety would bring.

While his mind raged against him, his body was urging him to give in. His single heart was pounding in his chest, and his smaller lungs were working overtime as his hands roamed over Rose's body.

It wasn't as if she was refusing him, he argued to the nagging voice.

On the contrary, she had loosed his shirttails from his trousers and was seeking out the flesh beneath. Nerve endings lit up like Christmas trees when her fingertips brushed up his back and sides. He gasped at the intensity of the feeling and the heat it sent to his lower extremities. It was such a fabulously new and exciting experience.

This would definitely be a change he would grow to like.

Being so close, touching her so intimately, and her touching him, he notices a new detail about her he hadn't realized before.

"You're cooler," he gushed before he kissed her again, savouring the sensation, both familiar and new in the same instant.

"No, you're warmer," she countered as her fingers began to undo the buttons of his shirt.

Shrugging off his shirt, he decided he had always like breaking rules. Why should tonight be any different? What could possibly go wrong?

_**To Be Continued…**_

**Author's Note:** I plan to have a few more frequent updates on this story as I attempt to upload everything I have archived elsewhere. By the end of the week, it should be caught up.


	5. Lessons Learned

_Been some bad times I've been through,  
Damage I cannot undo.  
Some things, I wish I could do all, all over again_

_--Carrie Underwood--_

**Chapter Three: Lesson's Learned**

"Oh my God," Rose repeated for what must have been the twentieth time as she scrambled to get off the sofa. She fell with a heavy thump on the wooden floor, barely missing the coffee table. There would likely be a bruise on her hip later.

"I slept with you," she exclaimed, gathering her clothes up off the floor. "No, I didn't just _sleep _with you. I shagged you. Oh, my god! I shagged you!"

"And you let me," she added, staring at him with wide disbelieving eyes.

"Rose," he said plaintively, reaching out for her only to have his touch shrugged away.

"No. No. No. No. No. You can't. I can't. I have to go. No, you need to. You need to leave," she babbled wildly.

She stood grasping her clothes to herself and trembling with tears streaming down her face. He'd never seen her look so utterly broken. It was as if her entire world were crashing down on her.

"You need to go home," she stated bluntly.

"But-"

"No. Get out of my flat and go home," she reiterated, her voice growing stronger as she tried to pull herself together. "Put your clothes back on and get out."

She backed away from him, trying in vain to cover herself with her pyjamas. When he opened his mouth again to protest, she waved a hand to silence him, very carefully putting more and more space between them as she back toward her bedroom.

Perhaps thinking better of it, she turned left instead of right and locked herself in the bathroom.

She screamed a very strong word once she'd slammed the door behind her.

The Doctor watched her disappear in despair. This wasn't at all how he wanted thing to go. It wasn't even close. This may have been his one chance to make things right, and he'd just blown it, big time.

Cautiously climbing off the sofa, the Doctor looked down at the pile of clothing at his feet and then back at the door Rose was hiding behind.

He chose the door.

"Rose," he said knocking on the door, hoping she could hear him over the noise of the shower. "We need to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about," she shouted. "Just go."

"I'm not leaving."

"Well, I am. I'm supposed to meet Mum."

"When?"

"Now," she snapped. "But obviously I'm late."

"I can ring her for you," he offered, glancing around for her handbag, which was the most logical place for her mobile to be.

"Don't you dare," she exclaimed.

"I'm only trying to help."

"You can help by getting out of my flat."

Shoulders drooped in defeat, he made his way back to the sofa, where he began to pull on his clothing. He took his time with each article as he mentally berated himself for being so stupid. Just because this body had been so gung ho about it, didn't mean he had to have listened to it.

He was just fastening his trousers when the bathroom door opened and Rose appeared again, damp and wrapped in a towel. Trying his best not to look as distraught as he felt, he looked up and attempted a smile, but failed miserably.

Rose didn't even bother with a forced smile, she looked at him with a face as unhappy as she obviously felt.

"We didn't even use a condom, did we?"

"I don't think so," he admitted quietly.

His body was trembling as he watched her, torn between the want to hold her and the knowledge that was not a good course of action at the moment.

"Oh God," Rose exclaimed, holding a hand to her head looking like she was on the verge of tears. "If I end up pregnant…"

"You can't," he whispered, more wishing it were the truth than really believing it.

"Oh, but I can," she argued, tears running down her face. "You're human. Or don't you remember that detail? Being human means you don't get your little Time Lord tricks. No matter what you think or do."

His eyes widened as the full weight of what had happened dawned on him. He was a bigger idiot than he had thought he was only five minutes ago.

"I'm so sorry."

Rose just shook her head and walked into her bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

Quickly pulling on the rest of his clothes, he decided his best move would be a hasty retreat. Nearly forgetting his things, he rushed out of the door before Rose could see him again.

Walking out of Rose's building into the daylight he went through the entire night in his head, trying to find the exact point everything had gone so terribly wrong, but everything had seemed like it had gone so well until this morning. For those few short hours she had believed in him, and everything was alright again.

It had been like being on top of the world. Everything had gone so smoothly, he should have known it couldn't be so easy.

He wasn't standing out there long before Rose came rushing out to hail a cab. He thought she looked quite lovely for having put herself together so quickly, but then again he thought she looked quite lovely when she had just woken up and her hair was standing on end or she reeked of Tarientes and was covered in slime.

As soon as he cab had disappeared around the corner he turned back toward the front door of her building and walked in.

One short ride up the lift and search through his pockets for the key later, he was back at the scene of the crime, or at the very least the scene of his folly.

Dropping his effects back on the little table by the door, he walked into the kitchen to survey the damage from last night. It wasn't too bad. He'd cleaned up most everything he'd used while cooking. The only things left were the pot with the soup and the dishes they had used.

First thing first, he tossed the empty wine bottle in the bin and set about clearing the bowls off the table.

That done, he picked up the wine glasses from the coffee table. There was still a little left in the bottom of one. He swirled the red liquid around before he dumped it down the drain. It had been one of the main causes of the guilt he now felt.

Once all the dishes were cleaned and put back in their places, he sat down on the sofa with his mobile and scrolled through the list of names.

Choosing the most important one, he listened to it ring only to have her voicemail pick up.

"_This is Rose, leave a message_."

Ending the call without a word, he sat staring at the little screen for a few short moments before pressing the sequence of buttons again only to receive the same recorded message.

He cast the phone aside and buried his face in his hands.

Why did he always have to get everything so wrong?

*.*.*.*.*

Rose hastily paid the driver and rushed into the restaurant where her mother was waiting for her.

"I'm sorry I'm late," she gushed, taking her seat.

"S'alright, Sweetheart," Jackie said, looking quite relieved that she's shown up, or rather she did look relieved until she caught sight of her daughter's face. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah, it's fine."

Rose carefully avoided eye contact with her mother and tried to look very interested in the menu, even though she knew exactly what she was having as it was the same thing she ate every time they came here.

"What's wrong, Sweetheart?"

She shook her head, and found herself trying not to cry again. How could she have been so stupid? There were boundaries in their relationship for a reason. He wasn't _her_ Doctor. He was just a friend, a close friend, but only a friend.

"It's nothing, Mum."

This definitely wasn't something she could discuss with her mother. If she could, what would she say? Mum, I had sex with the other Doctor last night, and now I don't know what to do?

"It's _something_, or you wouldn't be so upset."

Jackie reached a hand across the table toward her.

"I don't want to talk about it," Rose stated and gave her a pointed look.

They sat in bitter silence for a moment. Rose stared out the window, watching the cars drive by, while her mother looked at her with concern.

"Sweetheart," Jackie began, but she was interrupted by Rose's mobile.

It was playing a quirky little tune both of them immediately recognized as the Doctor's chosen song. Rose wrenched her handbag open and pulled the phone out just long enough to silence it and drop it back into its pocket.

"What do you think he wants?"

Rose shook her head and said, "I don't know. Could be anything, knowing him."

She tried to put on a smile, but couldn't quite manage one, so she just settled for looking as frustrated as she felt. The fact her mobile decided to ring again didn't really help matters any.

"You should answer it. It might be something important."

"I don't want to talk to him," Rose said coldly.

"What did he do?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

Jackie's expression turned somber as she reached across the table for her daughter's hands and asked, "Did he hurt you?"

"No," Rose gasped, unable to believe her mother would even think something like that.

For all his odd quirks this Doctor was nothing but nice to her, even when she was a little too hard on him about keeping up a proper human schedule. Unfortunately once her mother had an idea in her head, she had a difficult time trying to convince her otherwise without coming clean.

"Friday, he fell and hit his head," she began, starting at the only logical point, because that was when he'd changed so drastically.

"Is he alright?"

"Yeah, he's fine. Only he thinks he's _my_ Doctor, not the other one."

"Is that really such a bad thing?"

"Mum!" Rose exclaimed. "Of course it is. He's _not_ him."

Her mother shrugged. All this space stuff was beyond her at times.

"For all you know it could be him."

"It's not."

"How do you know? He was able to split him self in two like that, why couldn't he pull himself back together."

"But he's human," Rose hissed, trying to make her point.

Jackie was possibly going to try to make some argument in favour of her daughter just accepting this change in the Doctor's doppelganger, but anything she would have said was interrupted when Rose's phone began to ring once again.

"Answer it," she prodded.

Reluctantly, Rose opened her handbag and pulled out her mobile. Standing up, she dropped her napkin in her chair and walked toward the door, accepting the call.

"Hello?"

"You answered," he said quietly.

His voice was so relieved it made her feel even more horribly guilty for how awful she'd been to him that morning. She opened her mouth several times to apologize or at least say something about how she'd acted toward him, but she could find the words.

"We need to talk about this," the Doctor stated slowly.

"Okay," she agreed. "When I get home, we can talk."

"When will you be home?"

His voice was just as pained as hers. If she wasn't mistaken, he sounded like he wasn't too terribly far from a tearful break down himself.

Taking a very deep breath to calm herself, she glanced at her watch and back in through the window at her mother. They were supposed to be shopping for Jess's wedding gifts today, as well as anything else either one of them happened to run across.

"I don't know. In a few hours, at least."

"I'll just wait here."

"Where are you?"

"Your flat."

"You came back?"

"I have a key."

"I know," she said, pausing for a few moments, trying to gather her thoughts about her. "You're just going to wait there?"

"I don't have anywhere else to go."

"Okay."

Ending the call, Rose rubbed her face and took a few slow deep breaths, willing herself not to cry again. This morning…she couldn't even begin to describe what this morning was.

*.*.*.*.*

It was barely even an hour later when Rose was riding the lift back up to her flat. She had been terribly distracted, and her mother finally insisted she go home and talk to him about 'whatever it was he'd done'. That was exactly what she was doing, but she wasn't sure what she would say. Three years of time and space and four working for Torchwood, she had seen things beyond the imaginations of most people, but she couldn't even begin to comprehend the claim he had made.

How could it possibly be him?

Steeling herself, she turned her key in the lock and walked in.

As soon as she walked into the lounge, the Doctor practically leapt to his feet. If she had been in a different frame of mind, she might have found the courtesy amusing, and perhaps even a little antiquated. Her mind was on other things however.

"I'm terribly sorry I didn't use a condom," he said, before she'd even had a chance to speak. "900 years of time and space to my name. You'd think I would remember a rubber, right? Not that I was ever able to wear one before, but a new human body needs new human habits, doesn't it? Contraceptives being one of them...apparently."

He tugged at his ear and forced a laugh. His cheeks had turned a violent shade of red.

Rose sank into the sofa and buried her face in her hands.

"I've told you about them dozens of times," she muttered. "Warned you not to get one of your girlfriends pregnant."

"You did?" he asked.

The startled squeak in his voice made her look up at him in alarm. Had he really lost all those memories? Had he really hit his head that hard? His eyes were wide confusion or terror, she was quite sure which.

He dropped down beside her, looking desperate when he asked, "How many?"

"How many what?"

"Girlfriends, conquests, whatever you care to call them. You've told me that I…well…_he_ slept his way through Catalog and Storage Unit B. I just want to know how many that is," he explained.

Before Rose even had a chance to answer he shook his head.

"Or maybe I don't want to know. Just tell me it was less than twenty. I don't think I can stand the idea of this body having copulated with more than twenty women before I've had a chance to see you again. "

Yes, he had definitely hit his head awfully hard. He was talking as if... the thought never completed itself. Rose found herself staring up at him, wondering if perhaps something this outrageous could happen.

"Rose, tell me it was less than twenty," he pleaded, apparently taking her silence to mean something other than confusion.

She shook her head and nearly laughed at him.

"Yes, it was less than twenty. Less than ten even."

He relaxed and almost smiled at her, obviously relieved.

"CS-B has a staff of four," she explained. "Lizbeth, Meghan, Tabitha and Steven."

His cocked eyebrow at the last name made her lip curl into a weak half-smile. Though he had been one to flirt with Jack when they had first met him, after his regeneration, he really wasn't terribly interested in men, even for the fun of simply flirting.

"Steven won't have you," she said.

Her tone was almost teasing, giving him the feeling it was yet another joke he was supposed to know.

All these comments, all these stories he wasn't a part of simply made him feel more lost and bewildered. His counterpart had a life here. Perhaps it wasn't the best life, or the most responsible, but he had friends who knew him and supported him.

The Doctor gazed at Rose, taking her in as if for the first time. She looked so different in the afternoon sunlight. The colour of her hair, her skin, her countenance even, all of it was changed. So much had transpired since he first left her on that beach, even more since he had left her that second time. She was older, and seemed harder. A part of her almost seemed bitter, unforgiving even.

Was that his fault?

There were reasons he avoided intimate relationships with companions. They were simply too complicated, and nearly always ended badly.

He'd sworn off sexual liaisons for much the same reasons, but the main one had to be the actual danger of accidental pregnancies. True, his body before had had a cycle, a schedule he could work around and keep things relatively harmless. There had been only one time they had cut it too close and things could have turned out differently.

It wasn't just the fear of a companion's mother that made pregnancy risky. The very nature of their lifestyle itself made such a situation perilous.

The TARDIS wasn't made as a family vehicle. It was designed with only adult occupants in mind. The background radiation and residual temporal feedback were more than enough to wreak havoc on a developing fetus. Both mother and child could be killed if too big a time leap was made.

Shaking away the thought of what could have happened after that one idiotic venture in Barcelona, the Doctor studied Rose a little more closely. She looked healthy. As far as he knew she didn't have any chronic illnesses and outside of her job being hazardous in its own right, he didn't see anything that would create a danger if she were to become pregnant.

As soon as that observation crossed his mind his next thought nearly floored him. The other him had had girlfriends, or at least sexual partners.

"He _didn't_ get any of them pregnant, did he?" he asked, suddenly terrified of the possibilities.

The expression on Rose's face made him wish he could disappear into the sofa cushions and never return. It terrified him in a way he couldn't even begin to describe. He felt guilty and worthless and it was only made worse when she finally spoke.

"You care if one of _them_ might be stuck with a baby, but not _me_?"

The Doctor swallowed hard. That definitely didn't come out right.

"I didn't mean _that_. Of course I care if you're pregnant."

He wanted to say more, tell her she was the only person he'd want to have children, but he didn't think it would help him at the moment. If anything, he had a feeling it would only upset her more.

"I could lose my promotion," she exclaimed. "Do you realize that?"

"How? Why?"

"Because I'm your boss. Haven't you read the employee manual? Fraternization is not exactly smiled upon," she stated, looking at him as if her were the biggest idiot she'd ever known. "I could lose my job."

"But isn't Pete the director?"

"He doesn't control these things. It's the board I'd have to answer to."

"Oh."

"Never thought about that did you?"she inquired, her eyes dark and threatening. "Wasn't part of your grand plan was it?"

"What grand plan?"

"Oh, don't be stupid. You come over here, act a bit off and try to claim you're _him_," she claimed flippantly.

"You can't possibly think that I meant for this to happen. That I came over here with the express purpose of _impregnating_ you."

He grimaced. Saying the word had almost tasted worse than the thought which accompanied it.

"Honestly, I don't know what to think," she whispered, looking up at him through a veil of tears. "This is all just too much. You're gone. Then you're not. Then you aren't you. Now you are? When I said things were mental with you, I wasn't exaggerating."

Burying her face in her hands again she took a long measured breath. The Doctor reached out a hand to console her but withdrew it before he touched her. That wasn't a safe gesture at the moment.

Her shoulders shuddered a few painful moments and then she seemed to pull herself together and sit up again. Wiping her swollen eyes with the back of her hand she sighed.

"I can't do this," she said.

Opening his mouth to say something, anything, the Doctor found himself floundering for words and simply snapped his mouth shut again.

"Maybe we can talk tomorrow, yeah?" she offered, but she didn't sound like she really meant it. "I just can't do this now."

"You want me to go?" he asked weakly, knowing that answer before she even said it.

"Yes."

He nodded carefully and hoisted himself to his feet. Standing up was harder than he remembered. It was as if a great weight had suddenly decided to rest on his shoulders. He didn't want to go yet, but he didn't know how to make things right.

For the second time that day, he gathers his things and walked out of her flat, only this time he didn't know if he would be allowed to come back.

_**To be continued…..**_


	6. What Now My Love

_What now my love, now that you've left me?  
how can I live through another day?  
Watching my dreams turn into ashes  
and my hopes into bits of clay.  
--Elvis Presley_

**Chapter Five: What Now My Love**

The Doctor strained his neck trying to get a final look at the window where he believed Rose's flat to be. Eighteen floors up, there was little to be seen from there, but he could have sworn he saw a flash of something behind the glass. Maybe she was looking down at him, watching him leave, or maybe she simple shut the curtains.

Tearing his eyes away from her building, he shoved his hands in his pockets and walked away, not quite sure where he wanted to go.

_Go home._

The words just repeated over and over in his head. The first and last words she had ever told him. He wanted to go home, so badly. All he'd wanted to do for the past decade was find a way back to Rose, and when he finally had the chance to be with her again, he'd sent her away, with an alternate version of himself.

He didn't deserve to go home.

Not after what he'd done.

Perhaps that was why things had turned out the way they had. He should suffer for the pain he had caused her. What could be a worse fate than being so close to her, but unable to be with her? There was no hell he could imagine that could be more awful.

Except one.

_You care if one of them might be stuck with a baby, but not me?_

His heart nearly stopped when realization finally dawned on him. He staggered the next few steps before he spun around to stare back at Rose's building.

If she did end up pregnant, it would be his child.

_His_ child.

So that meant she might have his child, and have absolutely nothing to do with him because he certainly had done nothing to prove to her that he was trustworthy, that he was who he said he was. To her, he must seem like some self-centered playboy who doesn't often think with his head.

Was that what the other him was like?

Fighting the urge to go back, he turned and began walking again, carefully weaving his way through the other pedestrians.

This was all awfully domestic--no saving universes, no stopping weird revolutions,just him with a flat and keys and a mobile phone. Not to mention he'd spent the past four days focused on nothing but convincing Rose to accept him. Now he'd gone and done that the worst possible way imaginable, and there might even be a baby because of his idiocy.

Babies were the epitome of domesticity.

Not that domesticity in and of itself was a bad thing. With the TARDIS gone and him trapped in an alternate universe, the domestic life wasn't a bad option.

Currently it looked like the only option. He had a flat. He must have some sort of job, though he wasn't too sure what it might be. Given the ID in his wallet, it was likely something with Torchwood.

He grimaced. Torchwood was definitely not his idea of a dream job.

Turning a corner, he suddenly found the tower looming over him. It was a little unnerving and made him think about the odd little saying on speaking of the devil. He'd been thinking about Torchwood, and there it was, towering over him. For the briefest of moments he was surprised that Rose lived so close, but then he found himself remembering she worked very demanding hours.

Having a flat only a few blocks away would make for a very short commute.

Wait.

Why did he know about Rose's schedule and her desire for a short commute?

The Doctor came to a sudden halt and one or two people behind him slammed into his back and called him a few choice names as they walked around him, but he didn't care. He was busy trying to shuffle through his own head.

The feeling of familiarity of both his flat and Rose's he had passed off as merely being lingering emotions which belonged to this body. Actually being able to associate a thought with a memory that was not his own, was more than a little unnerving. It almost made him doubt himself and everything he knew.

Very nearly breaking into a run he headed toward Torchwood Tower. His mind was brimming with questions he wasn't sure he would ever be able to find the answers to, but part of him knew he would find something to help him in the basement of that building.

*.*.*.*.*

Rose leaned her forehead against the cool glass and gazed down at the pavement. He looked so tiny from up there. The vice cold grip of guilt held her heart as he walked away. The relief she felt for not having to talk about it right then, was nearly outweighed by the agony of her own conscience. He wanted to make things work, and she had told him to leave.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, stroking the pane.

The Doctor stopped and turned back. Even from this far up, she could swear he looked right at her, his eyes searching her soul for some sign that she might accept him for who he was.

Wrenching the curtains closed she walked away, letting the tears stream down her cheeks.

Who was he?

Could he be him?

She shook her head and pulled at her hair, trying to remove him from her thoughts. This was all too much.

He was her friend. That was the role they had agreed on. He wasn't _her_ Doctor but that didn't mean they couldn't be friends. She did care about him. For the past two years she worried over him, made sure he was coping with the lot they'd been dealt. She was happy he seemed to settle in well enough, making friends and living a life.

But she couldn't be _with_ him.

Not like she had been with the Doctor so many years ago. They couldn't have that sort of relationship. It felt too much like a betrayal, even if he had essentially given her his blessing by leaving him with her on that beach.

She definitely couldn't have a child with him.

"Oh, God," she gasped reaching a hand to her belly.

It wasn't just his fault. She could have stopped him at anytime, or at the very least made him use something. The top drawer of her bedside table was only in the next room.

Why had she?

Was it because he had been so much like _her_ Doctor last night? He'd talked about things he had never spoken of, things that had remained silent between them, memories of her life with the Doctor.

He had known there had been a past, that she and the Doctor had gone well past being simply good friends. When asked, he had admitted knowing those things, but he didn't carry the emotions which went with them. The apology which followed that conversation was almost too painful for either one of them to bear.

Last night he'd been more than willing to reminisce about those stories, even playfully accusing her of nonsensical things like they had done before.

It couldn't be him though. It just couldn't.

They were supposed to go back and find him, but the project wasn't finished yet. No door had been opened. It couldn't be him.

She was torn about the possibility of a baby. Most of her hoped there would be nothing of the sort, that she had escaped last night's escapade unscathed. Because what would she do with a child? How would she tell the Doctor when she found him again? Would a child even be able to cross the void, or would she have to leave her own child behind if she wanted to go back to the Doctor?

However, there was a tiny part in the back of her mind that said having a baby wouldn't be so bad. At the very least, it would look like the man she loved, even if it wasn't exactly his.

Why had she let her birth control prescription lapse? Hadn't traveling with the Doctor at least taught her that not thinking something like this could happen only made it more likely to? It was hell jumping through the bureaucratic hoops the first time she'd gotten that damned patch, which made it even more stupid for her to have decided she didn't need it anymore.

Now she was going to have to face the consequences of giving up her one fail-safe in a world that believed only preventative measures.

"No," she declared as she pulled off her dress and climbed in to her bed. "I'm not. I can't be."

She had been getting ahead of herself. They'd only just had sex last night. A one night stand didn't always lead to a child. That was more of a plot device for movies or books, definitely not a common occurrence, even if it had happened to her friend Karen last year.

There were more important things she needed to think about, like the strange attacks which were occurring too close to curfew the past few weeks.

Anything would be better than the Doctor or a possible baby that were invading her mind.

Bingley vaulted onto the bed beside her, purring and rubbing his head against her face. Rose swatted at him once, but he only kept at her. Apparently she wasn't allowed to sulk.

"Fine," she groused. "I'm getting up."

She could barricade herself in her room after she'd fed the damned cat.

*.*.*.*.*

The Doctor stared at his reflection, studying every minute detail. After he'd gone through security clearance he realized he needed to find a loo. That aspect of this life was still taking more than a little getting used to, but it was that bodily urge which brought him to where he was standing, gazing at himself in the mirror.

He looked the same, but he already knew that. He'd shaved this face just the other day, none of the curves were different, only the sensitivity was changed.

The face staring back at him from the mirror looked very much like the one he had grown so used to. It had the same freckles, the same nose, and the same eyes. Even the direction of the hair growth was the same.

He rubbed his bristly chin and stared into his own eyes, trying to find something he didn't recognize. Anything to make this world make sense.

Maybe he really was his other self. Maybe Rose had been right in shunning him after last night.

Opening his mouth he stuck out his tongue. His taste buds didn't look the same, but then again they were part of a human tongue, not a time lord tongue.

Fixating on the man staring back at him, the Doctor found himself thinking about his TARDIS again. His only anchor in this world was Rose. Without her, he was lost. No matter who he might find, or what he might do, nothing and no one would measure up to her.

If only he had his ship.

His ship was his one constant in his life. Though companions came and went he had always had his TARDIS.

Denied his ship and denied Rose, he was at a loss of what to do. How had the other him even survived this long? Was this what it would have been like had they never recovered the TARDIS on Krop Tor?

No.

He'd at least have Rose then. He hadn't hurt her yet, hadn't abandoned her on a beach with his metacrisis twin. She had even offered to live with him. They could have had a mortgage together, a life, maybe even children, _if_ things had gone that way. Life might have been hard for them, but they would have persevered because Rose was a survivor like him.

He was a survivor.

He knew how to make the best of any situation.

_"What is it?"_

Rose's voice echoed through his head as he was hit by a sudden bought of dizziness. He clung to the sink, trying his best to keep himself upright as his legs tried to give way under him and the world faded to black.

_"A piece of coral," he said proudly and then clarified. "Bit of the TARDIS. Like a cutting off a rose bush."_

"Grown not built," Rose said sagely, reaching a timid hand out to touch it.

His grip slipped and he fell to the floor, trembling with sudden sensory overload. It was as if the memories themselves were attacking his body. His mind kept trying to reject them, but they were persistent, bombarding him with sights and sounds of a time he should have no knowledge of.

_"Are you sure it will survive?" Rose asked with concern as she stared into the little glass box._

The coral looked tiny and fragile surrounded by all the machinery. He didn't know the answer to her question. He hoped it would, but he couldn't be sure.

"Time to find out," he called, sounding much more confident than he felt, slamming a hand down on a large button.

The bit of coral disappeared with a bright pop reminiscent of thermite flash powder. Checking the read out on the screen in front of him he bounded over to a nearby computer and began to search the databases. Even with its instinctive camouflage, a young TARDIS would likely have been picked up by Torchwood. The question was simply where they were keeping it.

A few short clicks and there it was.

"Catalogue and Storage Unit B," he announce proudly.

He held his head. The burning was back as the memories fought to be accepted. Clearly they weren't his. It wouldn't hurt so much if they were.

Why did it have to hurt?

_"You've been with nearly every girl who works in Catalogue and Storage Unit B."_

He lay on curled up on the floor for some time before the dizziness finally subsided, but he didn't feel at all relieved when it did. Though his head was no longer spinning, his stomach had decided to flip over and expel whatever it had in it.

He deserved this. Each and every awful moment, for everything he'd put Rose through.

Carefully climbing to his feet, he waited for another onslaught, but it didn't come. His mind was instead working to fit the new memories in with the rest of his life as he remembered it.

When he'd finally regained his stability, he found he knew the Catalogue and Storage department was on the lowest level.

*.*.*.*.*

Rose rolled over and tried to find a better position. No matter where she lay, nowhere was comfortable enough for her to fall asleep. The last evening sunlight streaming in from the window wasn't helping either.

Crawling out of bed she staggered across the room and tugged the curtains closed, wondering why she hadn't done that before. They were lined to keep out even the most persistent rays. She'd bought them back when she worked nights, and they still came in handy.

Bedroom plunged into darkness, she returned to the warm comfort of her duvet, but sleep remained elusive.

After another hour of tossing a turning, she rolled over and pulled her phone off the beside table. She wanted someone to talk to about this. The problem was she only had a handful of people who would understand. Even fewer she was willing to discuss it with.

It was times like this she really wished she was in her own universe. At the very least she could ring up Sarah Jane.

Not that she could actually tell Sarah Jane about her current problem. That seemed a little insensitive. What would she say to her? The Doctor split himself into two people and then left me with one that was only sort of like the original him, now he claims to be the one who left him with me. Oh, and last night we had unprotected sex, so I could be pregnant.

Yeah, that wasn't really the best thing.

Who then?

Jake?

She shook her head. He'd been on her mother's side about trying to make it work. This would only be another thing he would say proved his point. If they were willing to have sex once, there was every possibility it could happen again. That in and of itself was enough to build a relationship on.

Not to mention he thought they were cute together.

Calling the Doctor was definitely out. She wasn't ready to talk to him just yet. Maybe tomorrow she'd feel more amiable toward him. At the moment she couldn't keep her thoughts or emotions in line when she so much as looked at him, let alone talked to him.

With a heavy sigh, Rose skimmed through her contact list. It only helped to increase her distress.

The majority of the numbers she had were various departments in Torchwood. Most of the others were the various operatives under her. Only a few could count as friends. It was hard having a close friendship when most of your identity was a lie. Not to mention most people would be a little put off it you tried to explain you'd lived most of your life in an alternate universe.

That really only left one other person.

The chiming from her phone and the screen of her mobile announcing _Mum calling_, told her that one person had already beaten her to it.

"Hello, Mum," Rose answered, sinking into her pillows.

"Did you two talk?" Jackie asked.

"Yeah."

"Did you work things out? Last thing I need next week is to have a depressed half time lord stalking about my house."

"He'll be fine."

"I know," Jackie stated. "It's my appliances I'm worried about."

Rose couldn't help but laugh. His tinkering could always be a little dangerous, especially when he was upset. Things tended to explode or catch fire. During a few of his more turbulent emotional breakdowns, more than one dishwasher needed to be replaced after he'd made modifications to them.

"He's not going to take anything apart this time," Rose consoled.

"I'll believe it when I see it." Jackie paused a moment. "You didn't answer my question, Sweetheart. Did you and him work things out?"

Did they work things out? Considering the fact she kicked him out, that hadn't even been close to happening. If she kept pushing him away, it was likely ever going to happen.

"Rose, what happened?"

Deciding she might as well come clean, she took a deep breath, preparing to admit her most recent downfall. The heat welled up in her eyes as they threatened to renew the torrents. Her lip trembled as she tried to fight back the tears.

"I slept with him, Mum."

*.*.*.*.*

Not only were the doors familiar, he also knew Steven when he saw him. Quite honestly, that was a good thing, meant he didn't have to make up some reason why he didn't remember him.

His body automatically carried him through the labyrinthine shelves of the storage room. Two right and a left had him standing in front of a rather menacing storage cupboard. Staring at it, he could feel the pull of his brain, wanting so much to ignore it.

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

It was a TARDIS. He definitely had a TARDIS.

A laugh burbled up inside of him. He really was quite brilliant. Stealing a piece of coral when he knew he was going to be abandoned in an alternate universe. He had to hand it to his other self. He really was resourceful.

The Doctor walked forward and pressed his palm against the cool metal sides of the filing cupboard.

The door shuttered, and a quiet click announced the lock unfastening. A gentle pull of the handle was all that was needed to open the door.

The space inside was dimly lit. The light flickered and pulsed in rhythm with the humming of the heart of this TARDIS. It was still not fully grown, but it was so close.

Practically skipping across the grating panels on the floor, the Doctor made his way to the console. The improvisation of his repairs to his original TARDIS had nothing on this one. It was a hodgepodge of bits and bobs. Nothing seemed to have any rhyme or reason. It was in complete disarray, but he couldn't help but feel proud of it.

He stroked the console cheerfully, savouring the warmth. It trembled under his hand, with the pulse of the universe.

Never had anything seemed so beautiful.

He was more than happy to tell her his much, even going so far as to tell it just was a wonderful ship it was, and that he adored every wire and circuit.

A thought struck him. If he ever was to have a child, he would likely speak to him or her in much the same manner.

Except, he'd be fussing over fingers and toes rather than wires and circuits.

Automatically his hand went to the breast pocket of his jacket, only to realise he wasn't wearing one. With a sigh he remembered there wasn't a screwdriver for him to use, at least not a sonic one.

But the other him must have had something he was using to make repairs.

"I have to have tools," he muttered. Glancing around the room, he noticed an open toolbox sitting in one of the dark corners. "That'll work."

The box was filled all the normal human screwdrivers and spanners, but it also contained a Vetrixian magnetic clamp and a Thretese morphic connector, both handy when there wasn't a sonic screwdriver to be had. Other helpful bonus items included a small torch with a head strap and spectacles.

Donning the specs and torch, he took the connector in one hand and a spanner in the other before turning back toward the console.

It was time for him to get to know his new ship.

*.*.*.*.*

"Seems Jake's flatmate left early Monday morning and he hasn't seen him for two days," Rose announced, her voice echoing through the console room and heels clicking across the grating as she walked toward him.

A dark rumpled head appeared out from under the console as she rounded it.

"What?" the Doctor asked, confused and quite groggy.

A sad smile tugged at Rose's lips as she looked down at him.

"Fall asleep in here again?"

Rubbing his eyes, he hoisted himself to his feet and looked around, seeming more than a little perplexed.

"I…what…who?" he mumbled.

Apparently the answer was yes, and he wasn't quite awake yet.

When Jake had called that morning, Rose had been worried. She'd wondered if perhaps the Doctor'd done something dangerous after she'd sent him on his way. If he had, she never would have forgiven herself, but he didn't seem suicidal, only disappointed.

Thankfully a call to CS-B had let her know he had been seen very much alive the day before, so she had a rather good idea as to where he was.

Crossing her arms she leaned against the console and looked down at him.

"You look awful," Rose commented.

His clothes and hair were a disheveled mess, making him look like he'd had a fight with a Banthier and lost. The grease marks across his forehead and the big stain on the front of his shirt attested to the fact he'd been there all night, maybe even falling asleep with the spanner in his hand.

The Doctor winced and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Yeah," he breathed.

"Go home," she suggested. "Shower, get some decent sleep. You can't live in this control room, no matter how much you want to."

He nodded, but his face said he didn't agree with her. As soon as the words 'go home' had left her lips he'd grimaced. That obviously wasn't something he wanted to do.

Dropping her hands to her sides, she leaned forward.

"Are you alright?"

"'M fine," he mumbled, rubbing his face.

Rose sighed heavily. She was torn as she always was when it came to him. Logic and reason wanted her to keep her distance, and to make sure there was an obvious line that couldn't be crossed. Unfortunately Monday night had blurred that line much more than she would have liked, urging her to react only on emotion, and her heart was telling her to hold him, and tell him all the things she wanted to tell herself.

But how was this supposed to be alright?

The Doctor let his hand fall into his lap before he looked up at Rose, his eyes silently pleading at her.

"If…" he started, and shook his head looking down at the spanner by his knee.

"If _what_, Doctor?" she prompted.

He let out a weak laugh and shook his head.

"Nothing."

Her heart went out to him. He looked so broken. Rose sank to her knees beside him.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I shouldn't have…"

The Doctor shook his head.

"No," he argued. "It was my fault."

Hand worked their way through his hair, making it stand on end even worse than it was before, if that was even possible.

"Rose," he said slowly, like the topic was a wild animal that might bite him if her spoke too quickly. "I want to be involved."

She opened her mouth to ask what he meant by that but he went on.

"I've had children I've never even met. I don't think I can do that again. Not with you."

Against her better judgment, Rose reached out and put her hand on his knee, squeezing it reassuringly and trying to smile at him.

"We're getting ahead of ourselves," Rose said. "I won't even know for another week at least, maybe even two."

He took a deep breath and nodded, trying to force a smile. She rubbed his knee and attempted a smile herself.

"I'll let you know."

"Either way? Even if you're not?"

Rose nodded and agreed, "Even if I'm not."

"Good."

Knitting her eyebrows she studied him, not sure that she understood his distress correctly. He couldn't possibly think she would keep him away if she did have a baby.

"Do you honestly think I wouldn't tell you if I was going to have your child?"

"I…" he started, but swallowed his words.

"Let's just wait and see, yeah?" Rose offered.

"Right," he said. "Anyway, there are other alternative, right?"

"What?"

"Contra…contraceptives," he stammered. "There are others, beside just condoms. There are pills, injections, that sort of thing. Levonorgestrel being one, right? You know… Plan B…er… Next Choice, or what ever they call it here."

Rose shook her head, "Only available via prescription, and you need a better story than 'I accidentally slept with my best friend' for a doctor to even entertain the idea of prescribing it."

"Oh," he mumbled and looked up at the console.

"Isn't she beautiful?" he asked, changing the subject. "I mean, absolutely gorgeous. The control panel could use some work, but that wiring isn't entirely hopeless. I've fixed most of the quirky bits anyway."

Reaching to his side, he picked up the spanner and moved to stand up, but a firm hand kept him down and plucked the spanner out of his hand.

"You need to go home and sleep," Rose repeated.

"I should," he agreed.

The two of them sat together in the heavy silence which followed. So many things still left unspoken and unproven between them.

"Where do we go from here?" Rose asked.

"I've been thinking about that," he offered brightly, a hopeful expression on his face.

"Oh?" she cocked her head, and smiled.

She couldn't help but grin when he looked so much like an eager puppy. If he had a tail it would be wagging right about now.

"Yes," he said with greater enthusiasm. "I was hoping we might be able to… I don't know… _Do_ something together. You and me."

"Like a date?" she offered, finding the idea more attractive than she thought she should.

"Yes!" he squeaked, a bright smile working its way through his features. "Exactly like a date."

When Rose didn't reply straight away, his face fell and he offered, "If you want to."

That was the question she was asking herself. Did she actually want to attempt a relationship with him? She'd promised her mum she'd give him a chance. For all she knew, he could be telling the truth.

"Okay," she said finally.

"Great," he exclaimed, not even trying to hide his smile.

"You're an idiot," she teased.

"So I've been told," he laughed.

Maybe it wouldn't be a bad thing, Rose thought. She smiled at him. At the very least he seemed more like the man she had spent so long trying to get back to him.

"When do you have another day off?" he asked eagerly.

"I don't work on Tuesdays or Saturdays," she explained slowly, thinking he should know that by now, then reminding herself that if he was _her_ Doctor is was perfectly logical he didn't.

"What day is it?"

There was honest curiosity on his face and in his voice.

"Wednesday," she informed him with a smile.

He pondered that for a moment before asking, "So Saturday then?"

Rose shook her head. Saturday wasn't going to work this week. Yet another thing he should have known.

"Can't," she answered. "I have a hen do."

"Oh," he breathed, face visibly falling.

"Don't seem so upset. You have a stag do."

"I do?"

"Yes," Rose laughed. "Steven and Jess are getting married a week from Sunday."

"Really!"

His genuine excitement only made her smile more. He always was so happy for other people, even when he hardly knew them. Weddings in general were more than enough to send him off on some happy spiel.

Rose sighed. She wasn't ready for him to go off on how fantastic and brilliant that was. She'd already heard it before when the first rumours of the engagement had made it through Torchwood.

"Home and bed," she reminded.

"Right," he agreed, with superficial nod of his head. "Tuesday then?"

His eagerness was rather cute. She couldn't help but smile and agree to Tuesday. After which, she reminded him that she did need to go back upstairs to her office and he needed to go home and rest, or at the very least, let Jake know he was alive.

It took his help to get her back to her feet. She hadn't thought about the fact the skirt she'd worn wasn't the best for kneeling on the floor. A few laughs at her expense, the two of them exchanged pleasantries and parted with a hug that wasn't as awkward as she thought it would have been.

Even after everything that had happened over the past few days, she left the Catalogue and Storage department feeling happier than she had in years.

_**To be continued...**_


	7. Breaking Inside

_I don't want to fall, and say I lost it all  
Cuz maybe there's a part of me that hit the wall  
Leaving pieces of me behind  
And I feel like I'm braking inside  
--Shinedown--_

**Chapter Six: Breaking Inside**

Rose was barely in her office an hour when her mobile sang the Doctor's jaunty little tune again. Apparently he hadn't followed her advice that he go home and sleep. With a mournful glance at her mountain of paperwork, she pulled out the phone and answered it.

"Hello?"

"The hen do's on Friday night, not Saturday," the Doctor stated matter-of-factly.

"I plan on using Saturday to recuperate," Rose laughed. "I don't intend to drink myself under the table, but you never know."

"I suppose that is a good idea."

"We agreed on Tuesday," she mentioned. "So what's the problem?"

"Tuesday's six days away," he complained. "Why can't we do something on Saturday?"

Rose sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, regretting the fact she'd agreed to go out with him in the first place. No matter what form he was in the Doctor always had a problem with patience. He always wanted to do things right when he thought of them.

'Waiting' was not a word in his vocabulary.

"We'll see each other Sunday morning," she consoled. "Bright and early. That is… as long as you remember to show up this time."

"Not my fault I was hung over and suffering from regeneration sickness."

"You didn't regenerate."

"I did…sort of."

Rose glanced at her watch. He should have been home by now, preferably asleep, so they could have a slightly more coherent conversation later today. Why didn't he go to bed?

"We'll talk about this tomorrow," she told him curtly. "I'm working."

"Right…"

"Go to sleep," she sighed.

"I'm not tired," he whinged, reminding her more of her little brother than of her former lover.

"Then don't go to sleep. I don't care. I can't talk to you right now. I have things I need to be doing."

She tried sound frustrated or at the very least annoyed with him, but that hard to do with the smile on her face. The fact that he was so excited about the idea of a date gave her a warm and happy feeling, leaving her confused.

Part of her wanted so much to believe that it was truly him; while, the other part of her wanted him to drop the act and let them go back to being friends.

"May I call you later?"

"Yeah," she relented, trying not to laugh at him. "Right now, I have a meeting I need to attend."

After a quick exchange of goodbyes, she ended the call and turned off her phone, just to be sure he wouldn't call her again.

*.*.*.*.*

Snapping his phone shut, he set it aside and turned his attention to his takeaway. Popping a few warm chips into his mouth he mourned the fact they no longer used newspaper. Why couldn't this universe have allowed it?

Rose had always teased him about his preference for his fish and chips served in newspaper. More than once offering to pick him up a paper from a newsagent near the chippy.

Vinegar, salt and hot greasy potatoes, there was really nothing better.

It was one of many preferences he found he'd gained after his regeneration. Everything about his regeneration was gear toward making him more compatible with Rose. He was more attractive. He had gained a new accent. He even had many of the same likes and dislikes.

Except for the pears.

That was definitely all him, because Rose liked pears, which made for a few unpleasant kisses in their past.

Finishing off his last two chips, the Doctor licked the vinegar from his fingers and glanced at the clock. It was only mid afternoon, but with his stomach full, exhaustion finally caught up with him.

Sleeping on a grated floor wasn't exactly the best way to be well rested.

Crumpling up the paper from his meal, he considered Rose's advice. Sleeping wouldn't be a bad idea. The only problem was the fact he still hadn't done anything about his naked window.

If he was tired enough, he could probably forget the fact that the sun was blazing at him through the pane.

Or he could do something about it.

There had to be some sort of tacks or nails somewhere in this flat. Tossing his rubbish in the bin, he hopped to his feet and began to rummage through the utility drawer in the kitchen. Nails or tacks didn't reside in there amongst the scissors and pens, but he did find a rather decent roll of gaffer tape.

"Duct tape makes you smart," he laughed.

Automatically, he glanced over to find the reaction to his comment, only to remember he was alone. An unfortunate, sobering thought.

Ignoring the pang, he carried his prize toward his bedroom.

One dark pillowcase and nearly half a roll of tape later, he was quite pleased with his handy work. No wicked beams of light were going to intrude on his slumber now.

Doctor: 1 Sun: 0, he thought with smirk.

*.*.*.*.*

It was dark when the Doctor woke up again. He stretched slowly, releasing all the tension from his tired muscles. Rolling out of bed, he walked out into the lounge on his way to the toilet and the one habit he wasn't sure he would ever get used to.

Jake was making his way around the sparse little kitchen when the Doctor walked through.

"So, you finally decided to come home?"

The Doctor cringed at the thought of this pokey little flat being his home. True he lived here, but that didn't make it a home. A home had… He shook his head. He didn't have a home. Not yet. His home was with Rose, and that wasn't his to claim.

He tried to come up with some witty answer but his tongue decided it was a good time not to do his bidding, so he just snapped his mouth shut and closed the bathroom door behind him.

Jake could make jabs at him later.

There was one thing to be said about being forced to stand still for a few short minutes in a room by himself. It gave him a chance to think about things without any distractions; although, in some ways that could be a very dangerous thing. His mind was known for wandering into treacherous territory from time to time.

This time his thoughts were quite tame, mainly circling around his upcoming date night with Rose.

After zipping up, he washed his hands and stared at his reflection in the mirror, thinking he still looked sexy, even if he was a bit more human than Time Lord.

That train of thought was quite quickly derailed when it was hit head on by his memory of what Rose had said to him this Tuesday just gone. She'd been standing in the narrow hallway, wrapped in a nothing but a fluffy towel, looking damp but beautiful. Her hair…

He had to shake his head to get his thoughts back on her words and not what she'd looked like.

She'd fretted over the fact they hadn't used a condom.

Never having been human before, that was something he'd never had to worry or think about, but now apparently it should be one of his top priorities, especially if he ever thought there was chance of copulation happening again.

With that thought came a rather important question.

If he had condoms, where were they?

Which was quickly followed by a much more pressing inquiry.

Where did one go on a normal human date?

Perhaps he should have ironed out those details with Rose when he'd phoned her earlier, he thought as he walked out of the bathroom.

"Oh, well," he told himself. "I can always call her again."

Thus he had only two things on his mind when he walked toward the table for his mobile were, 'where were his condoms' and 'where was he to take Rose on a date'. The latter was taking up the greater part of his attention because the former wasn't necessary until he'd figured out the other first.

He'd just snatched his mobile off the table when Jake interrupted his thoughts with a question.

"So, where have you been for the past two days?"

The Doctor pulled on his most innocent face, and informed his flatmate that he had gone to see Rose--just as he said he was going to--and then spent the next day at Torchwood.

This made Jake raise an eyebrow and smirk in a way the Doctor wasn't sure he appreciated. The two word sentence, 'did you?' and the gesture that accompanied it cemented the idea that he would need to watch what he said to his flatmate in the future.

Considering Rose's remarks on Torchwood's policies, he decided what they did the other night should not be common knowledge.

"Of course not!" he exclaimed and turned tail back to his bedroom, ignoring Jake's disbelieving cough.

Quickly redialing Rose's number, he propped the phone against his ear as he bent down to glance through the drawer in his bedside table. All the while his mind was going through all the things Rose had enjoyed doing with him.

They'd watched the solar eclipse in Jalfrinon, walked the frozen seas of Woman Wept, been worshiped as gods on multiple planets, but none of that was something he could duplicate on Earth.

That left normal things, like parties and restaurants. A restaurant was good. They could go somewhere and eat. That was part of a date, wasn't it? They ate most anywhere they'd gone.

But what else? Dates were supposed to be entertaining and fun, weren't they?

True, he considered being chased by any number of aliens fun and exciting, but that was what Rose now did for a job. Somehow that seemed to suck any of the fun out of the adrenaline rush.

What else had she liked to do?

"Hello?" Rose answered, just before her voicemail would have picked up.

"Hello," the Doctor responded with a smile.

He was so overwhelmed by the sheer delight of hearing her voice again, he almost completely forgot why he'd called. It wasn't until she asked that he remembered, and the words came tumbling out of his mouth in a breathless rush.

"Do you still like the theatre?"

She laughed and told him she did.

"Lovely," he exclaimed. "Though I have no idea what's playing."

"That's alright," she consoled. "You have nearly a week to figure it out."

"I still say we should do something on Saturday night."

"No, Doctor," she argued.

He could almost hear her shaking her head at him. Obviously she wasn't going to let up on that. As far as she was concerned, they had agreed on Tuesday as their intended date night.

"Are there any plays or musicals you are interested in seeing?" he asked, shuffling around the items in the drawer of his bedside table.

He found some dental floss, a few pieces of chewing gum, three pens, a pamphlet on a nearby museum and a few other things which did not resemble a condom. No matter how many times he moved the items around, no rubbers magically appeared.

If they weren't by his bed, perhaps they were in his bookcase.

"I don't know," Rose replied. "I've heard _Wicked_ actually follows the book, but I don't know if that means the musical is more depressing and convoluted or that the book actually had a happy ending."

"I'd hope it's the happy ending," he offered, walking over to his bookcase.

"Me too," she laughed.

Cardboard boxes of various sizes cluttered the shelves. He pulled down the nearest one and ripped open the lid. It was filled with wires of all lengths and widths. Shutting the lid he noticed a pattern of concentric circles scrawled across the top.

"Wires," he read, not realizing he'd said it out loud until Rose asked what he said.

"Nothing," he replied, checking the next box.

Each of them was labeled as to what sort of technical part they held, none contained anything he was searching for.

Wrinkling his nose, he slid the last box back into place. This search wasn't going at all as planned. Then again, nothing he ever did went along as planned. Well, sometimes it did, but then something would happen after to ruin everything else he'd done before.

"Well," Rose yawned. "I think I will let you go."

"Oh!" he exclaimed, having completely forgotten he was talking to her. "Hello. Sorry. Yes. Goodnight then?"

She giggled quietly.

"Yes. Goodnight," she said like he was thick in the head, but a tone of amusement was still strong in her voice.

"Goodnight," the Doctor repeated, smiling happily.

Call officially over, he snapped his phone shut and tucked it into his back pocket. He hadn't checked the bathroom cupboards yet. Perhaps he would need to go buy another box.

_Where did one buy condoms anyway?_ he wondered, scratching his head. He could ask Jake, but that might lead to questions he wasn't at liberty to answer. He may be able to talk his way out of most situations, but this one didn't fall into the category of "most".

Stalking back across the flat, he tried to avoid any eye contact with Jake on his way back to the bathroom.

*.*.*.*.*

Rose shifted through the stack of paperwork on her desk. Some were files on open cases, some were closed cases, and some were, "cases which hadn't been declared official Torchwood cases because the local law enforcement wasn't ready to admit they couldn't handle it yet, but Torchwood was looking into anyway."

She didn't honestly care what half of them were. The only one she needed at the moment was at the bottom of the stack. She carefully pried it loose and flipped it open.

Pulling up her e-mail client, she started composing a quick note to one of the operatives who was working on the case she was reviewing. She had a few questions she needed answers to.

She'd only just begun her third sentence when her phone rang. Automatically she reached over and hit the second button from the receiver, so she could speak hands free.

"This is Rose Tyler," she answered.

A promotion would give her a secretary, who would be able to do most of this work for her.

"I should hope so," came the Doctor's voice from the speaker.

Rose was torn between being annoyed with him and being happy he called. She decided it was easier to be annoyed, being happy came with a few too many unsettling thoughts and questions about his identity.

"What do you want?"

She was prepared for some silly question or some strange new observation on being human like the time he'd called her when he discovered he needed to relieve himself more than once a day. That was an odd phone call.

While she thought she was ready to listen to anything he was ready to tell her, she was proved quite wrong when he spoke again.

"I bought condoms," he stated proudly.

Working at Torchwood had definitely improved her reflexes, because Rose had never grabbed her phone as quickly as she did the moment those words left the speaker.

"You what?" she hissed, looking up to find she had indeed left her office door open.

"I bought condoms," he repeated slowly.

"I heard you the first time," she spat, still watching the corridor outside. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Well, remember that conversation we had Tuesday? The one about my needing to have condoms?"

"Vividly."

"Okay. Yesterday, I searched my flat, and I found a box of condoms, but there were only three left in it, and I am quite sure I…well..._he_ wasn't the one who used them, not all of them at least. I'm guessing Jake's been making use of them, as he does seem to have a rather active social life."

"Can you get to the point?"

"Oh, right. So, today I went to the chemist—that one round the corner--and picked up a new box. Well, three boxes, actually. Did you know that there is such a thing as flavoured condom? I don't know why you would want a flavoured condom. Especially when they don't really taste very good."

"You've tasted them?"

"Yeah. Banana's alright. It's imitation banana, so it's not exactly like real bananas, but it's not bad. Though, why anyone would like sour apple is beyond me. It's so sweet and tart and…well…very sour."

"Where are you?" she asked, trying to keep her voice calm, when she had an urge to throttle him.

Torchwood kept taps on its lines. There were records on nearly every phone call made in or out. Just what she needed was to have this one recorded.

"Your flat," he replied.

She had to shake her head to rid herself of the mental image of him sitting at her dining table with various rubbers on his fingers.

"Is that why you rang? You're in my flat, and you have condoms?"

"No. Not really. Actually, I made egg mayonnaise sandwiches, and I wondered if you would like to join me for lunch."

Rose pulled open her desk drawer, hoping there was still a bottle of aspirin or perhaps ibuprofen in there for the headache she had coming on. After two years of unusual phone calls, she still wasn't used to it yet.

"Yes, I'll meet you for lunch," she said quietly. Glancing at the time she added, "I've a break in a half hour."

"I'll come to you then," he said brightly. "See you in a half hour."

"See you."

And with that he was gone, and Rose was left to finish an e-mail she couldn't quite concentrate on. Hanging up the phone, she laid her head down on her desk and wished for a simpler life.

*.*.*.*.*

He arrived right on time. A half hour had just passed when he appeared at her office door with a little basket in hand and a smile on his face.

"Hello," he said cheerfully.

"Hello," Rose responded, smiling back at him. She straightened the stack of files on her desk as she stood. "Give me one more minute."

"Take your time."

The Doctor leaned back against the door frame as she tidied her workspace. She leaned over her keyboard, brushing the loose strands of hair from her face and tucking them behind her ear as she signed out and locked her computer. He couldn't help but think about how much she had changed.

She didn't just look older, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what the difference was.

Looping her handbag over her arm, she walked around the desk and toward him and the door. Automatically, he reached out for her hand, and was a bit unnerved when she hesitated to return the gesture, looking at his hand like it might bite her.

Undaunted, he wiggled his fingers at her and smiled reassuringly, same as he'd done that Christmas, so long ago.

With a quiet nervous laugh, she linked her fingers through his, and asked, "Egg mayonnaise?"

"Yes," he replied enthusiastically, smiling down at her with everything he had.

He gently squeezed her hand when her cheeks coloured slightly and he heard her breath catch momentarily. If he still had his full array of senses, he would hear her heart speed up and smell the hormone shift. It was a fair trade he thought, being relegated to the five simple human senses, if he could be with her again.

There was an urge to inform her that he had brought a few condoms in his pocket, but that little voice in the back of his head reminded him that she wouldn't want to. For all the signals of her body, emotionally she wasn't ready to accept him yet. At the very least, he just liked having them in his pocket. They would keep him from making the same mistake again.

Swinging her hand in his, he cheerfully walked her out of the building and toward the little park just across the way.

The two of them sat down on the stone wall surrounding a little stream. The Doctor unfolded the little cloth to reveal the contents of his little basket, and handed a paper wrapped parcel to Rose.

"Very little Red Riding Hood," she commented, opening her sandwich and taking a bite.

"What? The basket?"

Rose nodded, chewing her mouthful.

The Doctor shrugged and laughed, "Well, you're definitely not my grandmother."

"That would be weird," she agreed before looking down at her sandwich thoughtfully, squishing the bread to make the filling bulge and then letting it go back in. "He couldn't cook, you know."

"So you said."

"I did, didn't I?"

They exchanged a soft laugh and it was the Doctor's turn to examine his lunch. For all his knowledge of space and time, he couldn't begin to fathom his other self would be lacking such a simple ability.

"Not even egg mayonnaise?" he asked incredulously. "It's nothing but hard-boiled eggs, mayonnaise, and maybe some vegetable; though, that's not necessary. All you need is just the egg and the mayonnaise."

"Not even egg mayonnaise," Rose confirmed, apparently amused by his mystification.

"Wow," he said dramatically before taking a large bite of his own sandwich.

He chewed pensively a moment before asked, through a mouthful of egg and bread, "So how did he blow up the microwave?"

"What?"

"The other day, you told me not to blow up the microwave again. What did he do to it?"

Rose laughed so hard in remembering, she nearly choked on her sandwich. It wasn't until she managed to swallow properly and take a few drinks from the water bottle he offered her that she was able to speak again.

"He decided he wanted to cook an egg," she said simply.

"He didn't," the Doctor said, not quite sure his other self could be that stupid.

"He did."

"You mean he put it right inside and turned it on?"

Rose nodded. "Yeah, he put it right inside and turned it on."

"But he should have known that it would explode. I mean, the steam would be trapped inside the shell and the pressure…"

"It blew the door open," she said explained.

"That must have been a right mess."

"It was."

"He hadn't been tinkering with it? It was just the egg, right?"

"Just the egg," she confirmed, smiling at him.

"Good," he sighed, looking relieved. "Because microwave ovens are extremely volatile. They are the one kitchen appliance you should never under any circumstances tinker with."

Rose nodded and looked up at him with a cheeky grin on her face. "So says the man who set Mum's toaster on fire."

"It stopped burning the toast after that."

"It stopped working after that. We had to go get her a new one, remember?"

"Oh, right," he laughed, raking his hand through his hair, looking sheepish. "I shouldn't tinker, should I?"

"Not with kitchen appliances, no."

"Agreed."

He took another bite of his sandwich and watched the other people around them. Most were business men and women from the various buildings around, but there were some parents and small children.

A bright little toddler caught his attention, a girl with blonde pigtails chasing after a little ball. She ran as fast as her little legs could carry her, but was still not fast enough to catch her ball which only sped farther way. Suddenly a strong set of arms swept her up and ran with her, swinging her down to pick up the ball before he pulled her into a tight embrace.

A sad smile tugged at the Doctor's lips as he watched the father and daughter play.

"Would you really be angry if you're pregnant?" he asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

He wasn't sure if he wanted to know the answer to that question. He stared at what was left of his sandwich. His appetite had left him.

"I'm not pregnant," Rose stated sorely.

"But I thought you said…" he started, not sure what he should read into that response.

Lifting his head, he met her eyes. She took a slow deliberate breath before she said anything.

"My period started this morning."

"Oh," he breathed, turning back toward the little girl and her dad.

Why did something that should have been a relief leave him feeling so utterly disappointed? It had been so long since they had discussed children. He had been a father once, but it wasn't anything like what this man had with his child. He was just a progenitor and had no real influence over his children's lives.

His brooding was stopped by Rose reaching out and giving his knee a pat.

Turning back to her, he smiled. She smiled back and tucked the loose bit of hair back again. His heart ached. She was the only person he could ever see himself having another child with and now that there was nothing stopping them, she might not even want to.

For all her comments about children being little terrors, he could see her as being such a wonderful mother. She'd been so good with Tommy after they'd defeated the Wire.

"So, you still want to take me out on a date?" she asked, smoothly changing the subject.

"Isn't this a date?"

"Sort of, but I was meaning a proper date."

"I suggested the theatre," he said, remembering their previous conversations. "But we can't do it this weekend, because you have a hen do."

"And you have a stag do."

"Yes, I do," he smiled. "That's why we agreed on Tuesday, right? You don't work, and we could go out early so you're back home at a decent hour even."

"Very considerate of you," she teased. "Thinking about my schedule."

He grinned at her.

"That's me, the considerate date."

Rose playfully shoved him, and his smile only broadened. It was nice being like this with her again. He hadn't realized how much he missed their good-natured teasing, until he lost her again.

Her face was still burned into his psyche, standing there beside the console and explaining about the dimension canon. She'd beamed at him then, so proud of herself.

This time she didn't have quite the same glow she'd had then, but her face was still bright as she laughed at him. It gave him hope that perhaps everything would work out, that she would eventually believe in him and who he said he was.

The happy mood was shattered by Rose's quick glance at her watch.

Her break was nearly over and she needed to get back to her office to prepare for a meeting.

_**To be continued…**_


	8. Need You Now

_It's a quarter after one  
I'm all alone, and I need you now  
Said I wouldn't call  
But I've lost all control, and I need you now  
--Lady Antebellum--_

**Chapter Seven: Need You Now**

Rose shuffled around her kitchen, still humming to herself as she put the kettle on. Why did pop songs have to be so catchy, she wondered and pulled a mug and the box of tea bags out of the cupboard.

"Bad, bad, romance," she sang as she padded barefoot across the tiled floor to retrieve her packet of biscuits.

She'd left the party a bit early, as everyone else had decided to continue at the bride-to-be's house after curfew. The others had tried to goad her into staying, calling her an 'old lady', but she decided she'd rather stay relatively sober, and have a good night's sleep in her own bed.

If that made her old, then she was old. Who cared?

The kettle whistled at her soon enough, and she could have a nice cuppa before bed. Taking the milk out of the fridge, she heard that quirky little melody chirping at her from the other room.

She really should change that song.

"You better not think I'm coming to get you," she called to the phone and she made her way across the flat to her handbag. "My car's at Torchwood, and I'm not walking over there tonight. It's well past curfew, and I am not your nanny."

Snatching the vibrating thing out of the pocket she continued, "You're an adult. Nine hundred years of space and time, you'd think you could get yourself home from a party."

The list of things she would like to say to him went on, but she rarely ever expressed them to his face, so the tirade ended the instant she answered, "Hello?"

"I think I'm a little drunk," the Doctor announced. His voice was a bit pitchy, but understandable.

"I can tell," Rose informed him.

"You know, I don't like being drunk actually," he said slowly. "It makes me feel…"

The words faded off as he seemed to lose his train of thought.

"Out of control?" Rose offered, thinking about how he'd always seemed to retain all the power of his faculties even after the same amount of alcohol had her completely smashed.

Drinking had been one thing she and this human version of the Doctor had had a multitude of discussions about.

"Sort of. Yes," he agreed.

Rose smiled and rolled her eyes. This was apparently going to be one of those night she was going to have to hear him out, or turn off her phone. Since she was on-call—yet another reason she hadn't stayed out all night—she couldn't be unreachable, so she'd have to talk to him.

Wandering back into the kitchen, she picked up her tea and decided she'd settle in on the sofa for a while.

"Why do you like being drunk?" the Doctor asked after the long minute of silence.

"I don't," Rose stated. "Not really."

"But you were so often when were together. I just thought…"

With a laugh, she explained, "I was just having a good time, not to mention, trying my best to keep up."

"Time Lord," he laughed.

"Not anymore," Rose countered cheekily, settling into the sofa cushions.

"Unfortunate, that."

"Don't like being human, then?"

"Did I say that?" he squeaked, offended. "I most definitely didn't say that. At least I don't think I did. Did I?"

_Not in so many words_, Rose thought, sipping her tea before she braved a reply.

"It's just all you do is complain."

He sighed, "Yeah, you're right."

"About being human or the complaining," she teased.

"Maybe both," he chortled before his voice went quiet. "So much is different."

"Good different, or bad different?"

"Oh, you know… Some good, some bad, but most is just different."

"What's bad then?"

"My phallus," he sighed mournfully.

That response had Rose choking on her tea. It definitely went above and beyond what she was expecting him to mention. On top of that, he had to use _that_ particular term. That ranked right up there with him using sexual intercourse instead of simply sex. It just made it sound so clinical, even if it was an accurate term.

"Your phallus?" she stammered.

"You've seen it. It's ugly. Well, maybe not ugly, but at least relatively unattractive as far as genitalia go. And it's just so… _primitive_. All loose and… hanging there. Why couldn't humans have evolved past testicles hanging on the outside of their bodies?"

If she'd had a free hand, her face would have likely been buried in it. When she thought he was going to complain, she'd assumed it would have been about not having anything to keep him occupied, or trying to convince her to do something on this weekend, even though Tuesday was just days away.

A rant on the anatomy of the human male was not anything close to what she had anticipated.

"Why couldn't they have evolved something more…advanced, like a gland or two which do the same function, but are housed inside the body? No chance of accidental castration there. Also makes trousers a bit more comfortable."

"You can't hate it entirely," she sighed. "Most men seem quite proud of theirs."

"No idea why," he muttered.

"Seriously?" she asked, honestly surprised. "You haven't found one thing you like about it?"

"Wouldn't know. Aside from urination, the only time I've used it was last Monday night," he said. "And that didn't exactly end pleasantly."

"That's all?" she asked incredulously. "You haven't—"

The sentence was never completed. Rose snapped her mouth shut, shocked at herself for even entertaining such an idea. That was definitely beyond the realm of things she wanted to know about his personal life.

"Haven't what?" he prompted, evidently trying to get the rest of the sentence out of her, but she didn't respond.

"Gotten myself off?" he goaded, sublime mirth oozing from every word.

The sudden heated flush of red coloured Rose's face as she fumbled for something, anything, to change the subject. What had possessed her to ask him such a thing? Taking a deep breath, she scolded herself.

Just like the Doctor, he wasn't at all unsettled. He merely laughed merrily and stated, "No. I can't say that I have. _Ever_, actually."

"Never?" Rose gasped, shock giving her courage in the face of possible humiliation. "900 years of space and time and you've never…"

"I couldn't before, remember? We discussed this. My body didn't work like that."

"Right," she murmured. "It had to be inside."

"And I've only been mostly human for a little over a week. Though, I've had to get used to those new involuntary reactions, the thought never even crossed my mind to be honest. Might give it a go sometime."

Rose groaned in humiliation. Of course he would find this all amusing. He'd chalk it up to her being human and hormone driven while he would still claim Time Lord superiority, even when he hadn't been so immune to hormones the other night.

There was a rustle of fabric and a low grunt, almost a moan, from the Doctor. It honestly didn't sound very sexual, but given the subject matter of the conversation, Rose wasn't exactly sure how to interpret it until he spoke again.

"Well, apparently, what goes in, must come out. Even if the timing is poor."

"Sorry?"

"I've had three pints and need to use the toilet."

"Oh."

"Do you want me to let you go to bed now, or do you still want to talk when I'm finished?"

"I'll wait."

She could almost hear him grin when he told her he'd be back in a few minutes before the click of the phone being set on a table.

Finishing off her tea, Rose deposited the mug in the sink and shut out the kitchen light. A quick glance at the door on her way to the bathroom let her know it _was_ locked. She then switched her phone to the hands free setting, so she could hear when he came back as she reached for her toothbrush.

Teeth and face clean, she shuffled into her dark bedroom and climbed into her bed. Her head had just hit the pillow when there was a shuffle on the line and the Doctor's voice returned.

"Are you still there?"

"Did you wash your hands?" she teased, scratching Bingley's head absently as he rubbed against her palm.

"Of course," he chuckled.

"Good on you."

The Doctor's mattress springs squeaked as he settled back down on his own bed. He laughed as it squeaked when he moved again.

"Standing to urinate, while convenient in theory, is more trouble than it's worth," he complained.

Deciding she needed to remember not to be surprised by his comments, no matter how absurd they were, Rose asked, "How so?"

"Well, for one thing, if you can't exactly see straight, you might miss and pee on the floor."

Rose snorted as she stifled a laugh. It _had_ taken him a while to come back.

"Is that what took you so long?"

He laughed, but didn't answer. Apparently she'd guessed right. His next question was quite obviously aimed at changing the subject, but she pretended she didn't notice. It wasn't her business what happened in his bathroom.

"What were you doing while I was gone?"

"Brushed my teeth."

"Oh! So you're changed for bed, then," he exclaimed cheerfully, though Rose wasn't sure why he was so pleased. "Pyjamas or a vest and shorts?"

"Shorts," she answered.

"Pink?"

She smirked. Yes, they were pink. Her wardrobe choices hadn't changed too drastically. They were simply a bit more expensive than the things she'd had before, but they weren't terribly different.

"Yeah, pink."

The Doctor hummed in delight at that answer.

"What about you?" she asked, deciding she'd play along with this game for now. "Changed for bed yet?"

"Nope. Rang you first."

"Should I feel special then?"

His mood changed instantly. He was no longer laughing and joking: he was somber and serious.

"You _are_ special. You've always been special," he argued.

A part of Rose wanted to shout at him, demand him to tell her why he left her here. If she was so special to him, he should have taken her with him. But he'd gone and chosen this life for her without so much as asking for her consent.

Only, if she shouted at him, he'd likely shut up and refuse to talk to her again. All this weirdness was easier if she had someone to talk to, even if he was the main cause of the weirdness.

That didn't mean she had to answer him, and he took her silence as a cue to change the subject again.

"Do you mind if I come round tomorrow?"

Rose rolled over to glance at her alarm clock.

"It _is_ tomorrow."

He chuckled and amended his question with, "Then later today?"

"We're not going out," she stated.

The last thing she wanted was him showing up tomorrow ready to go some where when all she had planned was an afternoon lounging about her flat and watching the telly.

"Right," he agreed. "I was thinking we could stay in."

She groaned. Even though he hadn't said it with any hint of innuendo, she still read it as him trying to come on to her. Yes, there had been something in their past, but she wasn't going to give in. It was too complicated. Too much.

"No sex. Even if you did buy condoms," she sighed, hoping she could get the point across to him that it was never going to happen.

"Of course," he replied obediently. "Because 'No means no', and I'm not making that mistake again."

The cat snuggled up closer to her, purring loudly as he shifted in closer to her side. He reminded her of something she'd been wanting to ask for some time.

"Doctor?"

"Hm?"

"_Pride and Prejudice_, do you remember it?"

"Yes, I do," he chirped. "I still prefer the version from your world, not the one from here."

"Me too," she agreed, thinking about what a brutal shock it was that her favourite characters were paired off with the wrong people. "Will you tell it to me?"

"Give me moment."

"Okay."

His mattress squeaked again as there was some shuffling on his side. A few odd grunts and a sigh later, the bedsprings protested and the Doctor said he was ready when ever she was.

"What did you just do?"

"I took off my clothes," he said, leaving the 'of course' to be understood as strongly as if he'd actually said it.

Rose opened her mouth to say something, but shut it again. There were so many ways she could take that, but decided some things were best not explored.

"Are you ready?"

"Yeah," she sighed, rolling over on her side cradling the phone comfortably against her ear.

"_It is a truth universally acknowledged that a man in possession of a large fortune must be in want of a wife._" he began. "_ However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a neighborhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered the rightful property of someone or other of their daughters._."

His voice washed over her, making her feel warm and comfortable. How she missed those restless nights when she would fall asleep to him talking or reading to her. This book had been one of her favourite 'bedtime' stories.

She liked it especially well when he would make obnoxiously witty comments about the characters, though she would pretend to be annoyed by his interruptions.

The best part about him reading to her was that he always put on different voices for each of the characters. She wasn't at all surprised when his voice jumped an octave as he recited the first spoken line of the book.

"_'My dear Mr. Bennet,' said his lady to him one day, 'have you heard that Netherfield Park is let at last?'_"

It had been so long since they'd done this.

*.*.*.*.*

It was just after noon when the Doctor came round. He didn't even knock, simply let himself in like he owned the place.

Not that Rose had ever expected him _not_ to just walk in.

She hadn't even been bothered with getting dressed and had simply thrown a hoodie on over her vest top. True, she needed to go down to the shops and buy some milk, but that could wait another day. A day off was something worth enjoying, especially after a night out followed by a rather lengthy phone call.

"What's on?" the Doctor asked conversationally, dropping down on the sofa beside her.

"Some football film," Rose laughed. "It's not bad."

"What's it called?"

"No idea," she answered proudly.

He smiled at the screen as he settled into the sofa cushions. Not thirty seconds had passed before his smile shifted into a smirk, and he nodded and hummed knowingly.

"I see why you're watching."

"Oh?"

"He's your type."

"My what?"

"The hair. The sideburns. The face. You're watching for him, aren't you," he grinned at her, so terribly proud of himself. He was utterly assured he had her number, and had found her out.

Rose laughed and chunked a decorative pillow at him.

"Is not," she argued.

"Oh, but it is."

"Like you'd know my type."

"I spent three years with you by my side. Always together you and me. Like two peas in a pod, or I don't know… two Sphildanese moths in a cocoon . Oh! Do you remember that time with the Sphildanese handcuffs?"

Stifling her giggle didn't keep him from beaming at her. Of course she remembered being chained to him for nearly four days. That had been quite a learning experience for quite a few reasons. Not to mention sleep had been an issue as he had difficulty staying still for that long.

"Anyway," he continued. "I should think I know your type by now. And he…" There was a gesture to the television screen and the man in the centre of it. "_He_ is definitely your type."

"Fine," Rose conceded. "Maybe I am watching it for him, but the story's not bad, either. Even though, I've just missed half of it thanks to you."

"Oh, you've only missed a few minutes."

"Could have been a pivotal plot point."

"Maybe it wasn't."

Two presses of a button later, the movie was back where it had been before she was so rudely interrupted. Rose casually dropped the remote control back down beside her on the sofa cushions.

"Well, that's a nice feature," he teased, evidently not taking the hint to shut up.

"Costs extra. I got the premium package."

"Impressive," he nettled, feigning reverence.

Rose knitted her eyebrows and tried to scowl at him, but she couldn't hide her smile, so she simply settled for kicking at him.

Being mostly human hadn't lessened his reflexes much. Before she'd even struck him he'd caught her foot and held it prisoner. With a wicked grin, he slowly trailed one finger across the sole, just to watch her squirm.

"Stop!" she yelped, trying her best to wriggle free.

"Not until you admit I'm right."

He tickled her mercilessly until she was writhing, giggling and begging for him to stop. As soon as the mayhem had started, Rose's cat had seen his peaceful slumber in his owner's lap disturbed and announced his disgruntlement to the perpetrator as he leapt to safety from the silliness.

Her refusal to assent to his demands only made the Doctor more determined.

The onslaught was short lived, for Rose managed to kick him squarely in the chin with her other foot and was instantly freed so he could cradle his jaw with the palm of his hand.

"That _hurt_," he whinged.

"Serves you right," Rose declared, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, her feet safely pressed against the cushions.

Switching off the television she tossed the remote onto the coffee table. Obviously she wasn't going to be watching anything at the moment. The Doctor was too busy trying to keep her attention on him.

She rolled her eyes as he massaged his cheek, contorting his face into yet another ridiculous grimace. Perhaps if she made him think about something else, he would forget about her nailing him with her heel, even if he did completely deserve it.

"What did you do last night?" she asked, leaning back into the arm of the sofa, not releasing her protective grasp on her legs.

"Pub crawl, exotic dancers, and all that sort," he murmured, uninterested in regaling her with his misadventures.

If she had accused him of pouting, he would have simply denied it because according to him, he never pouted. Any incident where she recalled seeing him pout was merely a figment of her imagination.

Better than starting that old argument, she decided to bait him instead.

"Didn't go home with anyone then?"

She smirked at him. It had been a joke that had started after the other Doctor had been picked up by some girl on a night out with his friends. He'd happily gone home with her, not letting Jake or Mitch know where he'd gone off too, much to everyone's great upset.

He'd never told the full story, but what details she did know still made for one great laugh.

The Doctor's eyes widened in surprise as he failed to fall into the familiar banter.

"I called you last night. From my flat," he explained, completely flummoxed. "Of course I didn't go home with anyone. I was quite alone. Jake stayed over with most everyone else at Mitch's flat. I didn't want to, so I went back to the flat, by myself."

Rose cocked her head to the side and studied him again.

It was nearly impossible to tell one apart from the other from the start. The voice, the face, even the attitude most of the time was the same. But this man sitting across from her was not the friend she'd spent the past two years with.

He also wasn't quite the same man she'd spent so long crossing the universe to find.

"Has he really gone home with a complete stranger?" the Doctor asked.

The knitted eyebrows almost amplified the sound of his brain running through every possible thing that could have happened in such a situation, ranging from the outrageous, being devoured by aliens, to the mundane, playing scrabble.

Rose nodded, completely unsure of how to follow that up with a decent explanation. She knew vague details. He'd apparently shagged her, but hadn't explicitly said as much. The main joke was the rash he developed the day after, spreading across much of his body, but concentrating around his lower extremities.

Thankful it had been an allergic reaction to fabric softener, and not an infection as he'd feared, when he came round her flat and stripped down to show it to her and ask her opinion.

"Yeah," she murmured.

That was one misadventure she wasn't ready to relate to anyone, even the Doctor.

Even though he normally ignored the obvious cues to shut up, this time he was more than willing to change the direction of the conversation back to a topic which was more comfortable for the both of them.

Evidently he wasn't interesting in reminiscing about sexual misadventures, which suited Rose just fine.

"Have you eaten yet?" he asked, standing up and moving toward the kitchen.

"There's some chicken in the fridge," Rose offered.

"Sandwiches?"

She smiled. "Okay."

He turned and walked into the kitchen, cheerfully humming to himself as he set about raiding the refrigerator.

*.*.*.*.*

The sandwiches were later followed by popcorn and ice cream as the day progressed. Though he still was quite positive he was right about Rose's reasons for watching, he stayed relatively quiet so she could finish her movie.

That was followed by a documentary about people who made clothing from dog hair, some odd reality programs he wasn't familiar with and a few more movies which weren't terribly close to the ones he knew under those titles.

It was truly one of the most uneventful days he'd ever had, but part of him adored every tiresomely domestic moment of it.

Simply being with Rose was more than enough to make him feel like he'd accomplished something. That feeling was amplified as the evening progressed.

Eventually Rose had given up her guarded position in the corner of the sofa and had relaxed, stretching her feet out and letting them rest in his lap. Deciding it was best not to tickle her again, especially with her feet so close to his new and rather sensitive appendage, he chose to simply massage them to keep himself occupied.

She sighed in contentment as his fingers worked their magic over the soles of her feet.

Mistakenly, he let his eyes wander from the celebrities on the glowing screen and looked down at the two lovely feet resting on his legs. They were attached to toned calves by strong, symmetrical ankles. He most definitely wasn't following that skin up to where it disappeared under those terribly small, pink shorts because that would be a very bad idea.

Swallowing hard, he bit down the urge rediscover exactly where those legs met the rest of her, mentally cursing the raging hormones of this body.

She'd said no, and he was bound and determined to prove he could resist temptation. As difficult as it was, the Doctor kept his attentions on relieving the tense muscles in Rose's feet.

Over and over again his thumbs circled the balls and the arches until the toes no longer flexed and their owner's hums of pleasure were replaced by smooth, even breathing. One glance over to Rose's side of the sofa confirmed she was sound asleep.

He chuckled to himself. That wasn't a skill he was aware he had.

Carefully removing her feet from his lap, he stood and gathered her into his arms. She seemed to weigh more than he remembered, but he shook that off for the fact his strength was now more equal to that of a human than of a Time Lord.

He carried her the short distance to her bedroom and gently deposited her into her bed. With the utmost care he removed her hoodie, setting it aside, and tucked her beneath the duvet. He longed to kick off his shoes and crawl in beside her, like he had done so many times before, but he knew that would cross the very clear line she was trying to draw between them.

That wasn't the sort of relationship they had.

Brushing a few stray hairs from her face, he trailed his fingertips over the curve of her cheek. He had missed her so much it hurt. If the only way he could be with her was to keep his distance, so be it.

The Doctor bent down and pressed his lips softly against her forehead.

"Goodnight," he whispered. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Night," Rose murmured back, shifting on her pillow.

He combed his fingers through her hair one last time before he could tear himself away. The journey back to the lounge was long and arduous. With a heavy sigh he shoved his mobile and keys back into his pocket and walked out the door, wondering if things would always be like this.

_**To be continued...**_


	9. Workin' For a Living

_Hey I'm not complaining 'cause I really need the work _

_Hitting up my buddy's got me feeling like a jerk _

_Hundred dollar car note, two hundred rent. _

_I get a check on Friday, but it's all ready spent. _

_--Huey Lewis--_

**Chapter Eight: Workin' For a Living**

One of the things he had decided was most frustrating about being human was the amount of sleep required to function efficiently throughout the day. It was only exacerbated by the fact he still needed the same amount of time to make himself 'presentable'. Getting his hair to look that perfectly disheveled was no easy task.

Pausing to look at himself in shop window, the Doctor loosed another button on his shirt collar. He'd decided to forgo the tie that morning and was wondering if perhaps he should have worn one. Refastening the button he wrinkled his mouth and studied his reflection.

Maybe he should have found a jacket and a tie. The lack of them suddenly made him feel practically naked in his shirt sleeves, and he wondered if perhaps he should have worn them. Not to mention he didn't want Rose to think he had some ulterior motive to his dress. Refastening the button he wrinkled his mouth and ruffled his hair a bit more, until he was satisfied he looked suitable.

When he walked into the café, Rose was already sitting at a little table in the corner. She smiled and waved him over, and he couldn't help but find himself taken in by her. She was again dressed in a blouse and skirt with her hair pinned up on the back of her head, looking very much the professional woman. It was a style he wasn't exactly used to on her, but he wasn't opposed to it. If anything, he adored the way the clothes fit her. They accentuated her curves but wonderfully left so much more to the imagination, even if memories were more than willing to fill in the blanks.

Perhaps he wasn't as subtle about looking her over as he should have been, but Rose didn't seem to mind the way his eyes appraised her, trying to remember every shape.

He'd only just taken his seat when an older man, most likely the café owner, brought them their drinks, some sort of an iced coffee for Rose and a steaming something with whipped cream for him.

"What is it?" he asked her, staring down at the little white cup like it might bite him.

She simply shook her head and stirred her drink with the straw as she calmly explained that it was the same thing he had had every Sunday for the past year and a half.

Taking a tentative sip, he quickly decided he did indeed like it. His tongue was greeted with a warm creamy chocolate drink. It was spicy and rich, almost reminding him of that cake he'd made nearly a week before.

"Oh! That's lovely," he exclaimed, beaming at her.

Rose rolled her eyes and drank her coffee, not saying a word. Her expression told him just how silly she thought he was, though.

With a half smile, she studied him thoughtfully, chewing on her bottom lip as she did.

"If you are _you_…" she began, the question sounding like it had been turned over and over in her head for day before she finally voiced it, "What happened to _him_?"

Now that was something he hadn't spent much time dwelling on. Most of his thoughts had been focused on understanding his current predicament and trying to prove to Rose that he was who he thought he was. What had happened to his metacrisis twin had hardly even entered his mind.

Not sure of the answer, he thought about deflecting the question, mentioning the food selections or confirming which musical she wanted to see, anything not to have to talk about that right now, but Rose saw through him before he even had a chance to get the words out.

"He's dead isn't he?" she asked, before she shook her head and corrected herself. "No, that's not right. Not dead. Just gone."

"Rose, I…" he started, not really knowing what to say, but hoping anything would at least help.

"He was my friend," she stated bluntly, cutting him off. "It may not have been perfect, but at least I had someone able to understand the more unusual parts of my life."

"You have me," the Doctor offered. "I understand plenty of unusual things. Most of the time."

She didn't answer him right away. She just sat across from him, spinning her straw around in circles, staring at him as if trying to look into his soul.

"What happens if you forget this, then?" came her next question. "Two years from now, what if you hit your head again, and then you're _him_, again?"

"I won't."

"How do you know?"

"I don't."

Rose nodded, and took a slow deep breath, to keep herself calm. She looked torn between crying or screaming. He wouldn't be terribly surprised if she chose to do both, because he definitely deserved to be shouted at for his transgressions.

In the end, she did neither. Steeling herself against the unshed tears, she asked, "So, say I did decide that I believe you, is there a chance I might lose you again?"

"Of course," he replied seriously. "I could walk outside right now and be hit by a meteorite. Though, the odds of that happening are near impossible. I have a greater chance of being killed by my refrigerator than by a meteorite. Actually, I have a greater chance of being killed by my refrigerator than I do of winning the lottery even, not that I actually play the lottery. Or at least I hope I don't, because that would be a waste of money…"

He grimaced at the thought. It reminded him of something he'd only just realized yesterday. Money was still not something he was terribly familiar with, but he knew what he'd found in his possession wasn't nearly enough to take Rose out on a date.

"What's wrong now?" she asked, sounding more irritated than concerned.

"Money."

"What about it?"

"I don't have any," he explained pulling out his wallet.

He bared the contents to reveal only two pitiful notes and a small handful of coins, all the money he apparently had to his name.

"Well not much at least," he corrected.

"Don't be stupid," Rose groused with an expression that was a cross between frustration and amusement. "You have a bank account."

"I do?"

"Of course you do."

Rose took the opportunity to scribble down a web address, a user name and a passcode on a napkin for him. As if it was an afterthought, she then made a side note of his code for cashpoint access.

"You need to keep account of it," she stated, looking at him pointedly. "I honestly don't know what your balance is at the moment, so you will need to check it before you go taking anything out."

He had the sudden feeling his doppelganger had managed money quite poorly in the past, because managing finances was not something he had ever done very often.

"Tell you what," she offered, taking a long draught of her coffee. "You can use my computer."

She explained where he could find it and dropped a few notes on the table as she stood, claiming it was already time for her to go, but he was welcome to get something for breakfast before he left.

*.*.*.*

The Doctor opened the computer and set it down on the coffee table. Tugging the crumpled napkin out of his pocket he looked at Rose's neat handwriting. After a few short seconds of squinting at it, he walked back to the bookshelf the computer had come from and searched the shelves for the spectacles Rose had procured for him the week before.

Finding them neatly tucked away in a corner of one of the shelves, he put them on and sat back down to pull up the bank's website and log in.

Unfortunately the simple passcode wasn't enough. As soon as he'd finished the first step, it asked him for the answer to a security question, to verify his identity.

"_Where were you when you had your first kiss?_" he read. "What sort of question is that?"

He glared at the blinking cursor in the empty text box as if it were mocking him. Why would _he_ have chosen that question? Of all the questions he could have picked, it had to be that one.

Was it the first kiss he'd ever had? Because that had been nearly a millennia ago and he hadn't even been terribly fond of her. She had brown wavy hair, but he couldn't for the life of him remember her name. Certainly that wasn't the one he meant.

Perhaps it was the first kiss of his actual existence. Given he was created through a human- Time Lord metacrisis only two years ago, that narrowed things down, especially since he was there for that kiss. It had broken his heart to see Rose kiss someone else, even if he did have his face.

Feeling terribly frustrated with his duplicate, he typed in the first place that came to mind.

_Bad Wolf Bay_

His hand lingered over the enter key. For some reason that didn't sit well with him. Maybe he chose the first kiss of this particular incarnation.

Deleting the first answer, he typed in the second one.

That kiss had been a surprise. It was a little disappointing to find out it wasn't Rose's motivation which had spurred it on; rather it was that of a woman Rose had referred to as a "bitchy trampoline".

_New Earth_ went in the blank.

He hit the enter key before he had a chance to doubt his answer this time. His entire being hoped that was the right answer. Otherwise he'd need going to need to figure out how to change it because he wouldn't be able to keep the other.

The answer came in a short four seconds.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he found that there wasn't a need to change his security question. At least not that one. He could deal with _New Earth_ even if the first reciprocal kiss came a bit later than that.

A few quick clicks showed him the current state of his finances.

Even not used to having to deal with money on a daily basis, he knew what he saw was not great.

Judging by the expenditures listed and the income posted, he was barely making ends meet. He ran the numbers over in his head a few times to be sure, but there wasn't much movement in his budget to fit in a night out to the theatre, at least not if it cost as much as he assumed it did.

He quickly searched for inexpensive theatre tickets. Maybe he could manage a show. Tuesday wasn't terribly expensive. Dinner might be another question.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his mobile and simply redialed the last number he'd called.

It went straight to voicemail.

Next, he scrolled through his contacts for her work number. The phone only rang twice before she picked up.

"This is Rose Tyler," came the automatic response.

Oh, there were so many annoyingly witty things he could come up with, but he didn't even attempt to venture one. Instead he chose to complain about his newest discovery.

"I need a better job."

Rose sighed, giving him the impression she wasn't pleased with being his first contact.

"Why do you say that?"

"I don't have very much money," he admitted, even though he had a feeling she was already aware of that. Having that much of his banking information meant she'd been quite involved with his finances.

"You spend it."

"But on boring things, like food and rent. What about traveling, entertainment, adventure? What am I suppose to do then?"

"Ring your friends up and complain?" Rose offered unhelpfully.

He completely ignored her snide comment and asked, "What sort of jobs are there I could do?"

"I don't know," she answered, sounding incredibly uninterested, and he was quite sure he heard the clicking of computer keys in the background. "What do you want to do?"

"I don't know. I've never had a proper job. Well, I did. Once. Actually more than once, but that was a long time ago. Well… not _that_ long with the last one, but still quite a while ago."

The particular sigh of hers told him she'd just rolled her eyes.

"That hurts, Rose Tyler," he complained playfully, holding the phone to his ear with his shoulder, so he could pull his bank card out of his wallet. "I'm trying to make a life altering decision and all you can do is make faces at me?"

"Life altering?"

"Well any change of employment can be life altering. Or at least lifestyle altering."

"You work maybe seven or eight days a month. Considering that, you make a decent living."

"Have you seen my flat? That's not exactly decent living. We've been locked up in nicer prisons."

"It's not that bad."

"Says the woman who lives in Canary Wharf."

"Doctor, you have a job. You pay your rent. If you want to do something else… then find something else. You're an adult, and I'm not your mother or your nanny. I don't know why you feel you always want to have my input."

"Because I want to know your opinion," he stated truthfully. "You must have some suggestion as to what else I can do beside tinker with that TARDIS and whatever else it is I do as a…" He pulled out his ID card. "_Consultant_ in _Extraterrestrial Relations and Identification_."

"Honestly, I wouldn't care if you decided to be a porn star," she sighed. "It's your choice, not mine. Right now, I have reports that need finishing. Look up your options on the internet. You can call me after you've narrowed it down."

"A porn star?"

"Okay, maybe not a porn star."

He laughed. That was definitely not something he had ever considered an option. Not that he had actually entertained having an actual career as a possibility up until a few days ago. Apparently being stuck in simple linear life was a little difficult without employment, especially when one lacked a sonic screwdriver.

His other self had been resourceful enough to nick a bit of coral. Why didn't he take a sonic as well? Would have made the money situation easier. He'd at least have had unlimited cash point access.

"A porn star," he repeated again, chortling merrily about the complete improbability of him ever taking that career path. "I think we need to discuss the motivation behind your fantasies, Rose."

"Shut up," she tried to snap, but he was quite sure he heard the smile.

"A director, maybe, but star… That would depend upon my partner I think."

Waggling his eyebrows was completely useless when Rose couldn't see, but that didn't stop him from doing it. He smirked, knowing that Rose had likely changed colours due to that particular comment.

It was a few seconds before she responded, but unfortunately it wasn't to play his game.

"Doctor, I have reports I need to finish within the next hour. I'll talk to you about jobs later."

Having no choice but to tell her goodbye, he hung up the phone and turned his attention back to the computer.

Carefully imputing his information into the form, he purchased tickets for the theatre.

Even if the show wasn't exactly the same as he remembered, it would at least give them something else to talk about. Not to mention he would likely have hours of entertainment analyzing just where the plot line veered off and the possible causes of that movement. Not that Rose would truly value a lengthy speech on the subject.

What he wouldn't give to have an appreciative audience.

*.*.*.*

Rose walked in carrying printouts on career options for the Doctor, files she hadn't managed to review at work and a Chinese takeaway for dinner. They were balanced precariously as she turned the key and opened the door to her flat, but somehow she managed to make it inside without incident.

She wasn't surprised to find the Doctor was still there. He was hunched over her laptop computer, scrutinizing the information on the screen.

"Find anything?" she asked.

He looked up, and she couldn't help but smile at his rumpled appearance. His hair was wild and his specs had slipped down his nose.

"Apparently, I could make thousands stuffing envelopes."

"I meant real jobs, not schemes."

He smirked "Like being a porn star?"

Rose laughed. Of course he hadn't forgotten about that yet. What was worse, neither had she. That mental image was indelibly seared into her mind. The slim, toned shape of his body and the way he always moved with a casual but deliberate manner was more than enough to keep her mind occupied for hours.

Shaking the picture out of her head, she laughed, "It's not a bad fallback."

"I _am_ rather sexy."

He waggled his eyebrows at her with an ornery grin.

"Chinese?" Rose asked, holding up the bag.

"Oh!"

If his full attention wasn't on her before it definitely was as soon as she mentioned food. The computer was snapped shut and pushed aside and he looked at the paper bag expectantly. He had definitely never been one to turn down a meal.

Setting the bag and paperwork down on the coffee table, she disappeared into her bedroom. She shut the door and pulled the zip down on her skirt as she walked over to her chest of drawers. Shimmying out of her skirt, Rose pulled on a comfortable pair of pyjama bottoms and changed her blouse for the matching top.

Free of her 'uniform' she returned to the sofa to find the Doctor in the kitchen.

"I could write a book," he commented, walking toward her with two plates and forks.

Very methodically he opened the takeaway containers and neatly plated the food before handing it to her as he rounded the coffee table and sat cross legged on the sofa beside her.

"So you're going to be a writer, then?"

"Not a bad thought really. I have plenty of stories to tell, I can set my own hours, and I can work from home." He shoveled a forkful of rice and chicken into his mouth. "Not to mention, I wouldn't necessarily have that sort of freedom if I pursued a career in pornography."

It was better to simply not allow him to fluster her, or else he'd just keep it up. She should have never let that option slip from her mouth. Why she had ever said it, she would never know. Her best option was to simply play along and let him tire of this game.

"Have you sent your picture in?"

"Apparently I am too skinny, but they like the hair."

His tone was the one he always used when she wasn't sure whether or not she should take him seriously or smack him for having her on. There were definitely plenty of photographs on the hard drive of that computer, so he had every opportunity to e-mail someone. Whether or not enough time had passed for him to have gotten a response was a different story.

"Who doesn't like the hair?"

"It is nice hair, isn't it?"

The both of them laughed at that. His exuberant laughter made him seem so carefree. Why would he ever worry about money? That had never been a problem before. Then again he had never expressed an interest in taking her places.

They finished eating in companionable silence, exchanging silly between mouthfuls. More than once one of them nearly choked, but the end of dinner eventually saw them through unscathed.

Perhaps they could have spent more time together if she had been willing to let him stay over for the night, but that was perhaps a little too much too soon. As it was curfew was cutting closer, and he was going to need to catch the train home before the lines shut down for the night.

*.*.*.*

Monday morning saw the Doctor cheerfully ascending to the street from the Underground station. He'd managed to assure himself that he had enough money to invest in a new suit—as his wardrobe was apparently at a loss for formal wear—and still afford to take Rose somewhere relatively nice to eat before they went on to the theatre.

Functioning on a limited income was going to take some getting used to, but he was quite sure he could manage for another decade or two, at least until the TARDIS was mature.

The high street wasn't exceptionally busy, but there were still quite a few people he had to weave his way through on his search for an appropriate shop. It had been a dreadfully long time since he had actually been fitted for a suit. Usually he was able to just walk into the TARDIS wardrobe and find something suitable to wear.

As much as it frustrated him, he still preferred the tuxedo he wore with this particular incarnation.

Unfortunately, it was locked away in an alternate universe with his sonic screw driver and psychic paper.

Still, there was no point in complaining. He at least had Rose here, and that was more than enough to make up for the loss of everything else.

As if her name crossing his mind was a cue, the Doctor mobile rang. He couldn't help but smile at the _Rose calling_ scrolling across the screen before he answered.

"Hello?" he chirped, more than a little pleased she'd called.

Rose, on the other hand, sounded harried and out of breath. From the sounds in the background, he had a feeling she was rushing through the Torchwood offices on her way somewhere.

"I completely forgot to remind you about this weekend," she gushed in one breath.

"What about this weekend?"

She didn't answer right away because she was talking to someone else. He couldn't make out all the words but there was apparently a question only she could answer. While he was waiting, the Doctor glanced into the shop windows as he passed by them. None looked like a decent place to find a suit, but he had seen a few dresses he wouldn't mind seeing on Rose and a handbag, or two, experience had told him she would love.

"Sorry." The sounds in the background faded and a door closed. "What was I saying? Oh, right. This weekend you agreed to stay with Tony because Mum and Pete are going on a short holiday for their anniversary."

"I agreed to what?"

"Fine. _He_ agreed to watch Tony."

"Not that I have a problem with watching your brother, but may I ask, why aren't _you_ doing it?"

"I have to go to Cardiff the same day, and I can't bring my five-year-old brother along."

"Why are you going to Cardiff?"

He tried his best not to sound as disappointed as he felt. Saturday was supposed to be her day off, and he had already decided he would try to spend the day with her. That wouldn't be possible if she was in Cardiff.

"Meetings and other things I am not at liberty to discuss. I won't even be gone three days. I think you'll survive."

Though he may have frowned at the thought of Rose going away for a few days, he definitely didn't pout over it. Yes, definitely didn't pout. Because even though he was mostly human, he still had his Time Lord sensibilities, and Time Lords did not pout.

Unless their Rose just told them that she was going away for the weekend without them, then they could pout.

If they wanted to.

"Doctor?"

Oh, right, he hadn't responded in about thirty seconds because he _wasn't_ pouting about Rose leaving.

"Yes?"

"Are you still alright with that? Staying with Tony? I can ask someone else. I think Jake might be willing to."

"No. That's alright. I'll do it."

"Good. I have to go. Do you think you can call Mum and let her know you're still coming on Thursday?"

"Thursday?"

"Yes. Thursday afternoon. I'll be back on Saturday to relieve you."

If Rose was coming round on Saturday, he could at least look forward to seeing her. That also meant that perhaps he wouldn't have to be so troubled about having his original weekend plans upset.

"Okay."

"Goodbye , Doctor. Call Mum."

"Will do. Goodbye."

And with a click, she was gone, but at the very least he'd found a shop that looked promising. The two dummies in the window were dressed to the nines and looking quite dapper. Making a mental note to call Jackie when he was finished, he stepped into the shop.

**_To be continued…_**

* * *

Author's Note: I wanted to apologize for taking a while to post this. I forgot to post the chapter and then I went on a writing hiatus for a few weeks. I meant to post before I took some time off from writing, and leave a note that I was doing that, but I didn't. I am sorry. But if it makes things better, I did send the next chapter to my beta reader and I should be able to have it up soon.


	10. Untitled

**Chapter Nine:**

Standing outside her door, the flowers suddenly felt very silly. He'd never gotten her flowers before. Well, maybe once or twice he had given her flowers, but never in this context. Never feeling like a nervous suitor.

An eternity must have passed by the time she finally opened the door for him. He'd switched hands on the bouquet three or four times and had adjusted his tie at least as many times.

The knob turned and the Doctor readied his 'hello', but hadn't prepared himself for the woman that opened the door.

Rose was clad in a gorgeous black dress that clung to her in all the right places. His jaw dropped open, and his heart thundered in his chest. The little voice in the back of his head told him just how how much he'd like to take that dress off her, but he swallowed the urge and snapped his mouth shut.

There was a knowing smirk playing at Rose's lips when she took the flowers from his hand and carried them into the kitchen for a vase and water.

He stood in the kitchen doorway watching her, trying to be discrete about his desire to watch her move. He hadn't decided whether or not he liked the control hormones had on this body's actions, but he did think it was something he could get used to.

"Eyes up here," Rose laughed, waving at her face.

The Doctor chuckled at himself and ran his fingers through his hair, muttering a half hearted apology to Rose as she took his hand and led him toward the door.

*.*.*.*

The Doctor held the door of the cab open for Rose as she slipped into the backseat. She smiled when he sat down beside her.

"So where are we eating?"

"Oh, this little place Katrina told me about. Her nephew's restaurant actually."

"Katrina?"

"The tailor."

He grinned cheerfully at her, quite pleased with himself for having found a nice little place, even if he'd had some help. His fumbling for a simple word to describe his relationship with Rose had gained him both the name of the restaurant and a kind smile.

His relationship with Rose Tyler was difficult to pin down at the best of times. She was definitely his friend. No matter how bad things had gotten, she had been quite persistent about reiterating that fact. Before they had been separated at Canary Wharf, they had be lovers and according to the customs of a myriad of planets, they were also husband and wife.

But his return to her through this body had confused the lines and blurred their tenuous relationship, and he didn't even think 'girlfriend' was an appropriate term for his Rose, even if culture allowed it.

She was so much more to him than that.

"Nobody's a stranger," Rose laughed, shaking her head at him.

There was going to be some sort of retort to that, but the words died on his lips when Rose's mobile rang and her face fell.

"This is Rose Tyler," she answered, unpleasantly.

The Doctor's heart sank, knowing this wasn't going to be good. At least not for his date with her. His assumption was affirmed when Rose apologized to him and redirected the driver to some point on the other side of the city.

She asked a few more question of the person on the phone, but he couldn't hear what was being said. He was too far away in his own thoughts.

Maybe they could give it another go this weekend?

No. that wouldn't work. Rose was leaving and then they had Jess and Steve's wedding when she came back.

Perhaps next Tuesday things would work out better.

With a heavy sigh, he turned to look out the window. As much as he enjoyed looking at Rose, her hair, makeup, and clothes only reminded him how things were definitely not working out the way he had hoped they would this evening.

*.*.*.*

They could see the lights before the cab rounded the corner and the emergency vehicles came into view. Rose calmly directed the driver to stop and paid him.

"Out," she commanded, waving the Doctor toward the door.

He climbed out and held it open, offering his hand to Rose to help her out.

"Should we have gone back for different shoes?" he asked as her heels hit the pavement.

"No." She shook her head and smiled at him. "All my clothes were bought with work in mind."

Looking like quite the leader, Rose strode past him and round the barriers to her team. Her hips swayed in the most lovely and distracting way when she was on a mission. He found himself frozen, looking after her slightly slack jawed for the second time that day, and remembering he ought to tell her how much he liked that dress.

Shaking his head to put his thoughts back on the present and the reason they were out here and not on a nice little date somewhere that definitely wasn't out in the middle of… where were they?

The Doctor looked up at the buildings. He knew this street, he'd been here in the other universe. But that was back in the nineteenth century. It had been a casualty of the blitz.

Why did it look entirely untouched by the war?

"Gingerbread houses," he muttered, hurrying to catch up with her.

Crossing the barriers, he heard the end of teasing calls at Rose, the last of which faded abruptly when he appeared. All eyes seemed to take him in. A hard, warning look from Rose caused them all to turn away as quickly as they had focused on him. Suddenly paperwork and computer screens were far more interesting than the two people who had just arrived, quite obviously, from an interrupted date.

"Sorry," Jake said from Rose's side. "I didn't realize…"

Rose shook her head and assured him it was fine before she snatched the pencil off his clipboard and used it to pin up her hair.

"So?" she prompted.

"Right," Jake responded. "We have two victims. One didn't make it."

He pointed toward a covered body on the ground, but Rose was more interested in the woman sitting in the back of the ambulance. She told Jake to tell her everything as she walked toward the woman being looked over by the medics.

"She was babbling nonsense when we got here, but she just sort of stopped," Jake explained as Rose crouched down to look into the woman's face.

"Just stopped?"

Rose ran her fingers down the the woman's neck, both sides. She then swept back her hair still looking for something she seemed to be missing.

"It wasn't a sucker then?"

"Why do you think we called?" he asked. "I wouldn't have interrupted your date if I could have helped it."

"Doctor told you, didn't he?"

"The man's been on about it since you agreed."

"Fair enough."

The Doctor wasn't sure whether he liked being talked about like he wasn't standing right there, but the smile on Rose's face at Jake's comment about his excitement over their date was enough to make him hold his silence.

"Doctor?"

Rose waved him over and he cheerfully obeyed her.

"What do you think it is?"

He crouched down beside her to look in the woman's eyes as Rose stood to talk to the medic. Vacant green eyes stared out at nothing. It was like her mind had been completely wiped of all thought.

"Here." Rose held out a small torch. "Her name's Mary."

The light beam reflected back at him with a very unusual glimmer as he shined it into the woman's eyes. Something was in there that shouldn't be. He shoved the torch back into Rose's hand and moved round the woman, pulling her hair up from the back of her neck. There was a small swollen puncture mark just at the edge of her hair line.

"A ha!" he exclaimed.

"What is it?" Rose asked, bending down beside him.

It took him tilting the woman's head so Rose could see the wound on the back of her neck. Her reaction surprised him. Rather than asking his thoughts on it, she cursed loudly and directed someone to check the other one for the same mark. Seconds later someone confirmed her assumptions, which gained another choice word for Rose.

This time it was the Doctor's turn to ask questions, which he did quite readily, quizzing Rose on the nature of the creature they might be dealing with.

"We've seen this before," she told him sharply as she closed the ambulance door. "Thought we were rid of them. Apparently we were wrong."

She turned round and barked orders to her subordinates, her foul mood slowly seeping through the scene of the attack.

The body was loaded into the back of a van, and the Doctor found himself climbing into the backseat of a car with Rose, who was back on her mobile giving instruction to Torchwood about putting together a team to scour the city looking for the creature that had attacked the couple in broad daylight.

She snapped the phone shut and glared angrily at the screen.

"It's not even curfew yet," she groused before dialing yet another number.

*.*.*.*

"It's a parasitic life form. It's offspring live off the neural energy of the brain," Rose explained when the Doctor pulled her aside on the way into Torchwood Tower.

She wondered briefly why he hadn't remembered, when they had dealt with it last year. The thought was quickly squashed when she remembered he wasn't the same man she'd been left on the beach, so he hadn't seen the creature yet; therefore, he couldn't know what it was.

Reminding her team what to do with the body--gaining a few joking salutes and a "yes, Boss" from Jake--Rose led the Doctor to the medical floor the woman had been taken to.

Appreciative her mobile's battery hadn't decided to go flat yet, she called the medical floor to confirm the operating theatre Mary would be in. The Doctor watched her intently from her left side, looking like he didn't plan to let her out of his sight.

As soon as she's hung up the phone, he began asking her questions. How long had they had this trouble?

*.*.*.*

For the better part of the night, the Doctor merely tried to stay out of the way, or at least that was what it seemed like he was doing. He studied the specimens after they were removed from the two victims, he commented on their origin based on their general structure and molecular composition, but admitted he hadn't seen the like before.

Though, things drew out and the entire evening was wasted on work, he was quite agreeable with doing nearly anything Rose or anyone else asked of him, until exhaustion had everyone ready to go home, and final reports were set aside to be finished in the morning.

Then Rose informed him her flat was only a few streets over and she would walk home.

"What do you mean, 'I'll just walk?'," the Doctor exclaimed.

"I do it all the time," Rose claimed, securely tucking the strap of her hand bag over her shoulder.

He rounded her, blocking the path to the door.

"What about curfew?" he asked. "I thought that was enforced for a reason."

"It is, but I will be fine. My flat's not too far."

She picked up the hand gun off the table and checked the magazine to be sure it was fully loaded before snapping it back in and tucking it into her bag. That gained her a few pointed looks from the Doctor.

"If you need a gun, it's not safe," he argued.

"I never said it was safe. I said I would be fine."

"I'd rather you not walk home."

"It's not your choice."

"Then I'm coming home with you."

Rose wasn't the only one whose eyebrow raised at his chivalric declaration. If he walked home with her, he would be there for the night. The entire public transportation system was shut down hours ago. There was no way for him to get back to his own flat if he didn't accept the ride home Mitch had offered him and Jake.

Part of her felt a little uncomfortable with the idea of him staying overnight after last week's incident, but she was still amused enough to be pleased with his offer. The other him had been just a little more self-important, not to mention afraid of the shadows that lurked in the dark alleyways.

Firmly, she told him, "You're on the sofa."

"Of course."

Jake smirked at her from over the Doctor's shoulder, and she tried to give him a hard look but he merely rolled his eyes. He looked even more smug when the Doctor automatically slipped his hand in hers as they walked together toward the door.

Before they were even in the corridor, Rose could have sworn she heard Jake make a comment to Mitch about the chances of the Doctor staying on the sofa being very small indeed.

"What's out there?" the Doctor asked as the approached the outside doors.

"Monsters," Rose teased, knowing he was referring to the curfew and unable to resist. "Big hairy ones."

He wasn't the least bit amused, knitting his eyebrows at her.

"I'm serious, Rose. Why is there a curfew? There must be something dangerous because you kept repeating 'it's not even curfew yet'."

"Oh. It's usually just the suckers, and they tend to stay away from the Tower."

"Suckers? What sort of creature is that?"

"Two actually. One is a sort of vampire. It looks mostly human and lurks in shadows. It feeds by sucking the body dry of all fluids. The numbers have dropped since the enforced curfews. Keeps people off the streets and out of danger at night."

"And the other?"

"Well, it's basically a succubus."

"Really?"

"People are upset night clubs were shut down, but that was where they liked to find their victims."

"Did they kill their victims or was it just energy drain?"

"They killed them."

He hummed a slightly despondent response before thoughtfully adding, "Though, I suppose that would be some men's idea of a good death."

He grinned down at her, cheerfully swinging their joined hands. There was no stifling her giggle. And she found herself leaning into him as they laughed and walked together.

"Not you, though," Rose teased, bumping him with her shoulder.

"Well…" he stammered. "I'm not sure I enjoy this body's response enough to find that particular demise appealing."

For some silly reason, his comment served to inspire her imagination. Life with the Doctor had changed her perception of quite a few things. One of which being the permanence of bodies in general, and the thought tumbled out of her mouth before she'd even realized she'd said it.

"Be one hell of a way to regenerate."

His eyes were sparkling with mirth as he bent over laughing, "That would take some explaining."

"Why'd you regenerate this time?" Rose asked with feigned annoyance.

"Some beautiful woman shagged me to death," he responded with a chuckle, but as soon as the words were out of his mouth, his laughter died and his expression sobered.

"What is it?"

The question was automatic, as his sudden change of behaviour had her looking around for the thing that had gone bump in the night. Only, there was nothing around them except a streetlight.

The Doctor laughed and shook his head. "Nothing."

"Doctor?"

The light, or perhaps her exhaustion, was playing tricks on her, but his eyes had grown darker while he gazed down at her appreciatively, most definitely interested in more than just her face. When he noticed she'd caught him staring, he cleared his throat dramatically and ran a hand through his hair as he averted his eyes.

"Come on, it's two in the morning," Rose exclaimed, trying to pull him along.

Her flat was just round the next corner, and she would feel a bit safer once she was in the bright light of her building's lobby.

He didn't budge. If anything he held he hand more tightly, pulling her back to him and laughing.

"Street corner, two in the morning."

A bright, cheeky grin spread across his face, nearly illuminating the shadows around them more than the lamp they stood under.

Rose couldn't help but smile at him, her heart suddenly beating bit stronger in her chest when he hugged her to him in celebration of absolutely nothing but the revelation that they were standing on a street corner at two in the morning.

"Well, we're not getting a taxi home," she laughed into his chest.

Knowing standing in an embrace with one's eyes closed was not the safest thing to be doing at that moment, for all she enjoyed it, Rose pulled herself free and tugged him along a bit more forcefully.

"I'd like to get some sleep before we have to report in tomorrow."

*.*.*.*

Standing in Rose's lounge that night, the Doctor realized her sofa wasn't as big as he remembered it being. It looked comfortable, yes. But it was comfortable in a curl-up-together-and-watch-the-telly sort of way, not in a sleep-the-night-on-the-sofa-because-you're-not-allowed-in-the-bedroom way.

Grimacing at the piece of furniture, he slipped off his jacket, peeled off his waist coat, and tossed the both of them over the nearby arm chair. Then he bent over and loosed the laces of his shoes to facilitate kicking them off while he unfastened his trousers and pushed them down his legs.

By the time Rose was padding barefoot across the floor toward the bathroom, clad in her little matching pyjama set, he was left in only his vest, shorts and socks.

Her head popped out of the bathroom door to ask him if he wanted a toothbrush.

"Yes, please," he chirped, practically sprinting across the flat to get to her.

One of the things he was missing about his Time Lord physiology was the lack of bad breath--unless he happened to eat something with a particularly foul odor, that was. His body simply produced different enzymes which didn't breed bacteria the way a human mouth did.

When he slid into the bathroom, his socks slipping across the tile floor, Rose had produced a bright yellow toothbrush from the cupboard and held it out to him along with her tube of toothpaste before she bent over the sink and began cleaning her teeth.

For a few short minutes, the two of them stood hip to hip, scrubbing away at molars and incisors. So physically close, but they had never seemed so far apart.

Rose was the first to stop and rinse her mouth out, dropping her toothbrush in the holder before giving his arm a pat and bidding him a good night.

He mumbled an incoherent reply around his toothbrush as she walked out of the room.

Spitting the foam in the sink, he gently placed his toothbrush beside hers and switched out the bathroom light, so he could return to the sofa and attempt to settle in for the night.

*.*.*.*

He rolled over again, trying to find a comfortable position, but that was nearly impossible. That sofa was not made for a man of his stature to use as a bed, even for only one night. Finally giving up on the possibility of finding the elusive method of folding himself up that would facilitate a restful slumber, he sat up slowly and rubbed his face.

Perhaps he could just go without sleep for a night.

That didn't seem like a decent option. He was supposed to actually work tomorrow. Not sleeping would severely limit his mental capacities.

Glancing back at Rose's bedroom door, he wondered what his chances were of being granted permission to share her bed. Immediately, he shot down that idea. There was no way she would be willing to allow him that.

He was going to resign himself to the possibility of waking sore and unrested, but Rose's bedroom door seemed to call for him to at least ask.

What was the worst that could happen?

She'd tell him 'no'?

That wouldn't change the outcome he'd have if he didn't ask.

Climbing to his feet, he shuffled over to Rose's partially opened door and knocked on the frame as he pushed it open and whispered her name.

"Yes?" Rose answered from the darkness.

"As much as I appreciate the offer of your sofa..." he began, pausing to formulate a decent argument as to why he should be allowed to sleep in her bed with her that sounded as far away from any ulterior motives as possible.

"Fine," Rose replied. "But if you try anything you'll be on the floor faster than you can say 'Clom.'"

That was simply too easy.

"I didn't even ask you yet."

"Get in bed and shut up," she groused. "We have an early morning."

"Yes, Ma'am."

He slipped into the room, finding himself having to find the bed by feel. His eyes were adjusted to the light, but he could hardly see any outlines at all. The only illumination came from the door to the hallway and there wasn't very much at that.

Automatically making his way around to the left side of the bed, he found it occupied.

"Watch the hands," Rose snapped when his palm came down on the curve of her hip - at least he assumed it was her hip. He couldn't be sure without further exploration, but further exploration would grant him an expulsion from the bed before he'd even gotten in.

"Why are you on my side?" he asked.

"S'my side now," she murmured.

"Rose, I'm always on this side," he pleaded.

She was evidently not impressed with this information because she stubbornly informed him, "Other side's free."

"It's dark. Just budge up and make room."

"What's the magic word?"

"Please?"

He felt the mattress shift as Rose slid to the right, giving up the left side of the bed to him. Slipping underneath the duvet, he settled down onto the warm pillow she'd just vacated. It smelt of her perfume.

"Goodnight, Rose" he said to the dark silhouette in front of him.

"Goodnight, Doctor" she whispered back.

**To be Continued...**


	11. Belief

Author's Note: I am so sorry. I forgot to post this chapter when I did over on Livejournal. Terrible of me. I hope you all can forgive me for it.

**Chapter Ten: Belief**

The alarm went off too early for both of them, but since she was more accustomed to making it on so little sleep, Rose climbed over a displeased Doctor and switched the clock off. The Doctor mumbled his annoyance with a few choice words aimed at the frustrating appliance.

With a laugh, Rose climbed out of bed and switched on the lamp. He groaned and buried his head in the pillow.

"You _will_ have to get up," Rose told him as she walked over to her wardrobe.

The Doctor merely muttered something incoherently as he tugged the duvet over his head, which was just fine with Rose. She went about getting dressed, pulling a clean skirt and blouse on whilst he hid from the glow of the lamp.

Automatically twisting her hair up on the back of her neck,she walked round to his side of the bed and ripped the coverlet away from his face.

"Up. Now," she commanded before walking away again.

Growling about wanting to keep sleeping, he unwillingly pushed himself up into a sitting position, rubbing his bleary eyes.

"Why do we have to get up so early?" he whinged, ruffling his hair as he scratched sleepily at his head.

"Because we work for Torchwood," she explained simply.

She couldn't help but laugh when he wrinkled his lip and set his feet on the ground. Served him right for all the times he had dragged her out of bed when he was too impatient to let adventure wait.

"Not so much fun, when you're the one being woken up is it?"

He grimaced again and hoisted himself upright, glancing around the floor, down at his body, where he patted his underclothes, and then back up at her questioningly.

"They're in the lounge," Rose offered, assuming he wasn't quite sure where his clothing had gone off to.

"Thanks," he murmured, brushing past her.

Leaning against the doorframe, she watched him tug on his shirt before he tried to step into his trousers, nearly falling over on his first attempt. He was a bit more careful the second time around, stepping into one leg and making sure his foot was firmly on the ground before stepping into the other.

With both feet stable, he had little difficulty pulling them up and fastening them. Rubbing his face, and still grumbling about missed beauty sleep, he turned to Rose.

"Shouldn't I change into something else?" he asked, looking down at his creased suit. "I thought that was one of the rules, me not appearing in public wearing the same thing two days in a row because it looks like I don't have good hygiene or something to that effect."

"Leave the jacket and waistcoat," Rose suggested as she crossed the hallway.

Apparently he followed her advice, because he was only wearing the shirt and trousers when he appeared in the bathroom doorway behind her. She moved over to let him have access to his toothbrush and the toothpaste.

"What about the tie?" he asked.

Spitting her mouthful of foam, Rose told him to 'leave that too' before she went back to scrubbing her molars.

He looked more awake than he had a few minutes ago out in the lounge. His hair was rumpled from sleep, but he was alert and ready for the brisk walk back to the Tower.

*.*.*.*

The Doctor again seemed to make a conscious effort to keep out of Rose's way while she worked. He would occasionally make a comment on something or point out a detail he thought someone had missed, but mostly he kept to himself and merely studied the laboratory's tech.

After seeing where the parasites taken from the victims the night before were being kept, he'd made a few scornful mentions of the cruelty of keeping the creatures in jars, but Rose did point out to him that they would die otherwise.

That didn't mean he liked it any better.

Once his participation in paperwork was no longer needed, he disappeared to Catalogue and Storage, finding tinkering more of a draw than the constant bombardment of the inhumanity of the Torchwood laboratories.

At least that was Rose's interpretation of his departure.

While she understand his attitude and wished nothing more than to have that option herself, Rose truly missed his presence.

Even walking back to her flat later that afternoon, she found herself wishing he were with her, holding her hand and making her laugh at something completely absurd. Against all her better judgements, she was getting reattached to him; though, she knew that he could possibly be gone again in the blink of an eye.

For all she knew he was still the duplicate and had merely hit his head and jarred his memories, but everything in her contested that idea.

*.*.*.*

Rose kicked her shoes off as she walked in the door and dropped her keys on the little table in the entry. One thing she hated about being in charge of her team was that responsibility. She was usually the last one to leave at night. All the double checking she needed to do to be sure everything was reported took up a great deal of time, but it was necessary for her position, because if anything was wrong, it all came back on her.

Most of her team would have already been home a half hour by the time she'd left the Tower. The Doctor included. He'd mentioned possibly coming round again, if she wouldn't mind, and she'd let him know it was alright.

A smile played across her face when she saw the jacket and waistcoat still thrown over the armchair. Apparently he hadn't come round to pick his things up before heading back to his own flat.

Though, she normally was frustrated by other people making her flat untidy, there was something about his clutter that made her almost appreciate it.

Unbuttoning her blouse, she tugged it off over her head as she walked back to her bedroom to change clothes. Though her clothes were purchased for movement and comfort as well as looks that fit in with the Torchwood dress code, she was more comfortable in jeans and t-shirt.

The door to her flat opened when she was pulling on her track suit bottoms.

"Rose?" the Doctor called.

"I'm here," she answered, pulling her t-shirt on.

"I brought Chinese," he announced, his voice closer to her bedroom door.

He presented her with the takeaway as soon as she stepped out the door, looking quite pleased with himself, and she couldn't help but smile at him.

"You the new delivery boy, then?"

"Yup! That's me, the delivery boy."

The two of them exchanged a stupid grin, and Rose found herself fighting back a very silly desire to hug him.

Nothing had happened to warrant the hug, but she couldn't shake the need to just hold him against her. She settled instead for taking the takeaway from him and carrying it to the kitchen as he followed, staying right on her heels.

*.*.*.*

Rose walked out of the kitchen with two mugs of tea in one hand and a package of biscuits in the other. The Doctor met her halfway and took his mug from her as the two of them sat back down on the sofa.

They'd finished eating close to an hour before and neither one had mentioned the Doctor's inevitable departure for the night. So far, they had both managed to completely avoid the subject altogether.

"So what do you plan to write about?" Rose asked as she pulled her feet up underneath her

He grinned and took a sip of his tea before answering, "A boy and a girl who go on all sorts of exciting and dangerous adventures."

"Oh?" Rose smirked. "Do they travel in a magic box?"

"No, of course not. They have a magic horse named Arthur."

"You're joking."

He grinned, and Rose rolled her eyes.

"A magic horse? Seriously?"

"There's nothing wrong with two children having a magic horse," he argued with feigned indignation.

She laughed as he beamed at her. Two children and a magic horse named Arthur actually sounded like a fun book.

"So what does this magic horse do?" she asked before taking a bite of a chocolate covered biscuit.

He hummed thoughtfully and nibbled on his own biscuit, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

"Perhaps it travels in time?" he offered with an ornery smile.

"And space?" Rose asked brightly.

"Of course!" he exclaimed through a mouthful of crumbs. "Think how boring it would be if he only stayed in one place when he traveled through time?"

Rose sipped her tea, eyeing the Doctor over the rim of her mug. He was grinning smugly at her, looking like he was just waiting for her to ask him another question so he could gush more information.

She rolled her eyes at him, more than just a little amused by his antics.

The book did sound like it had some promise. Two children traveling on a magic horse could possibly become a best seller.

"What are the children's names?"

"Poppy and Ian."

"Are they based on anyone in particular?"

He merely smirked again and Rose knew her assumption was correct. He was going to take one of their adventures and turn it into a children's book. The idea was brilliant. They had had a multitude of exciting adventures.

If she was a kid, she'd love to hear stories like that. That thought gave her an idea.

"You could test it on Tony tomorrow night. Would make a great bedtime story."

A wonderful smile spread across his face at that idea. Apparently that thought had never occurred to him.

"Oh! I could, couldn't I?"

The mental image of the Doctor sitting beside her little brother's bed telling him stories of their adventures left Rose smiling and thinking about the Doctor as a dad. She could see him being a good one.

"How old is you brother now?" he asked thoughtfully, knitting his eyebrows as if he were trying to remember.

"He's five."

The Doctor nodded and stared pensively into his mug as if it held the answer to every mystery he'd ever encountered before his face contorted into a terrifying grimace and the mug tumbled out of his hand, landing with a terrible crash against the wooden floor.

His hands flew up to his temples. He held is head as if it were going to break apart if he let go.

"Doctor?"

Rose set her mug down on the coffee table and crawled toward him. His head shot up at the sound of her voice though his hands never ceased their grip against his skull.

When he opened his eyes they flashed gold.

"Doctor?" Rose repeated reaching for his cheek, terrified for him. "Doctor, what's wrong?"

He moaned and snapped his eyes shut, clutching his head as if he were in excruciating pain.

"Is there something I can do?" she asked, pressing on hand against his cheek.

It seemed like ages before his finally opened his eyes again. The warm brown of them was tinged with a golden glow like he'd had that Christmas so long ago.

He was panting for breath when he asked, "He's ginger?"

Rose stared at him dumbfounded, her palm still resting against his face. She wasn't quite sure how to interpret what she had seen. And his questions seemed to come out of nowhere.

"What was that?" she demanded, never letting go of him.

His chest was still heaving as his lungs fought to take in enough oxygen.

"Something this body keeps doing," he said slowly, messaging his temples. "Every time I think of something _he _knew, it's like _whap_ to my head and I'm on my knees."

"This has happened before?"

The Doctor started to nod but stopped and contorted his face in pain.

"Yeah," he sighed mournfully and forced a smile.

Rose eyed the cut on his forehead. It was healing, almost gone save for the ugly red scar. Was this strange 'fit' of his responsible for that?

Sheepishly he reached up and touched two fingers to the mark.

"The transition wasn't so good," he laughed. "Fell on my face."

"Transition?"

"When my consciousness slammed into this body," he exclaimed calmly, as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world.

There was no way she would ever be completely used to the strange things that happened around the Doctor. He was the epitome of mental.

Sitting back on her heels, Rose considered him for a moment, thinking about what he'd said. He'd mentioned his consciousness and how it had crashed into his body. Her eyes widened in horror as she realized what that might mean.

"Oh my God!" she gasped. "Is it like Cassandra? You're in _his_ head?"

"No! No." He paused in his defense for a short moment before admitting, "At least, I don't think so. No."

Rose shook her head trying to remove the idea that the other him was still in there somewhere. That thought seemed even worse when it would mean he'd seen them have sex on her sofa the week before.

That was just too much.

She remembered how uncomfortable it had been for her to have Cassandra force herself on the Doctor with her body. The Doctor shagging her with his, and him still in there somewhere, that was completely unfair.

The disgust must have been obvious on her face because the Doctor leaned toward her and declared, "He's not in here."

Swallowing her doubt wasn't an option yet, as much as she'd like to.

"Are you sure?"

He rapped his knuckles on the side of his head.

"Nobody up here but me," he confirmed. "Though… there are a few memories that are definitely not mine..."

His voice trailed off, and he knitted his eyebrows together. The gears in his head were working overtime as he tried to come up with an appropriate analogy or explanation.

"I know what it's like," he stated proudly. "It's like someone moved out and left all their keepsakes behind. You can see what their life was like but you don't have any emotional attachment to any of it."

He smiled hopefully at her. The colour had returned to his face and looked as if nothing had happened, but Rose was worried about him going home after dark. It was still another two hours until curfew officially kicked in, but twilight was still dangerous for more reasons than just aliens.

One fit like that out on the street could be perilous.

He could fall down the stairs to the underground, or any number of horrible things she didn't want to think about.

"You're staying here tonight," Rose informed him. There was no way she was going to let him out on the streets like that.

"But--"

She held up a hand to silence him.

"No arguments."

He opened his mouth and snapped it shut again before nodding in agreement, a mischievous smirk tugging at his lips.

Rose gave him a pointed look to let him know that she was expecting him to respect the current boundaries, but couldn't hold it very long. She was smiling at him within a few seconds, and a little voice in the back of her head told her she wanted him to stay for more than just her concern for his safety.

The topic was dropped and Rose went to get a towel from the kitchen while the Doctor picked up the broken pieces of the mug.

Once his mess was cleaned up, the Doctor made them both new mugs of tea and joined Rose on the sofa again, where they both watched the latest episode of one of Rose's favorite shows until they were ready to go to bed.

*.*.*.*

One hand on the side of the bed kept him upright as he stepped out of his trousers. He glanced over at Rose who was watching him with more interest than he realized. She giggled when he met her gaze.

"What?"

She shook her head, but kept sniggering.

"Rose," he pressed.

"I forgot how skinny your legs were," she laughed, futilely trying to stifle it with her hand.

He looked down. They were a little thin, but they did their job without any problems. Perfectly good for running, his legs.

"There is nothing wrong with my legs."

"I didn't say that," she laughed. "I just said I forgot how skinny they were."

He gave her a pained look, but wasn't willing to start a debate over whether or not his legs were in fact skinny.

True, he could point out that on Retewl 5, his pins would be considered magnificent. They were nearly twice as wide as those of the royal family, who had the broadest legs on the planet, and were considered exceptionally attractive for them. Any argument he might have had would have been negated by a simple roll of Rose's eyes.

So, instead of arguing, he simply kicked his trousers aside and crawled under the duvet. Rose's perfume still clung to the pillow case.

Once he was settled, Rose shut off the lamp and plunged them into darkness.

"Goodnight, Doctor," she whispered.

"Goodnight, Rose.

The blankets on her side of the bed rustled once or twice and went still as she too found a comfortable position. She stayed silent, but didn't go to sleep. The two of them lay in the silence together, listening to one another breathe for some time.

The Doctor shut his eyes and listened to the steady movement of air in and out of their lungs. The sound of Rose laying in the darkness beside him was comforting. It was far better than the dreadful silence of the bedroom in his flat.

Perhaps it had only been ten minutes, or maybe closer to fifteen, when Rose rolled over. He could feel her eyes on him and waited for her to gather her thoughts before she spoke.

"How did you die?"

Shifting to his side, he looked into the darkness at her. With the blackout curtains and the closed door, it was almost too dark for him to even see her. The glow of the alarm clock only gave him a ghost of an outline.

"It's a long story," he whispered, perhaps hoping that would dissuade her from pressing him, because he wasn't sure if he was ready to tell her about his death in the other world.

There were many things he'd done that wanted for her forgiveness, so many he didn't feel he deserved absolution from.

"Besides," he offered, trying to put a smile in his voice. "You have to go to Cardiff in the morning."

"Afternoon, actually," Rose corrected, sitting up.

"Oh?"

The Doctor was surprised by that, but he didn't know what he expected to come of it. Though his initial surprise was nothing compared to what he felt when his bedmate suddenly appeared over him. Her body pressed against his as she fumbled with the alarm clock on the table beside him.

With a sudden intake of breath, the Doctor froze where he lay. Not trusting himself did not even begin to cover the range of reactions Rose's movement had caused. Mentally he cursed himself, and the number of thoughts that raced through his head.

Memories of Rose writhing beneath him, the sounds she made just before she cried out for him. The pressure of his newest appendage, begging to be touched and used.

Thankfully, Rose moved off him after only a few agonizing seconds. If she had stayed much longer he wasn't quite sure if he could have been accountable for his action, but he was quite sure throwing her down on the bed and taking full advantage of the situation would not only ruin things between them, but would likely gain him full expulsion from her life.

A chill tingled on the skin that had only moments before been pressed against hers. He took a long slow breath and thought very negative thoughts--war, death, plagues, Jackie Tyler slapping him for his naughty thoughts of her daughter--to possible quell his troublesome erection.

Damn thing had a mind of its own.

"I just gave us two more hours," Rose explained as she settled back onto her pillow.

_I can think of a better way to spend two hours than talking about my death_, his mind railed.

Unsure of where to begin, he started explaining about the machine the Master had taken control off and its power structure. He could go back and explain the other details later, when she asked. Part way into the story, he realized he needed to first tell her about the Ood and the prophecy, so he apologized and backtracked.

Slowly a very detailed narrative of his life without her seemed to form. Something about saying his actions outlaid made them seem so much more dark and painful, more than once he took a break to simply gather his thoughts and to push away the onslaught of emotions wanting to overtake him.

As he spoke, Rose carefully moved toward him until she was pressed against his chest, wrapping her arms around him.

The Doctor couldn't finish his story. Once he got to his farewells to his friends, he simply couldn't take it anymore and let the words fall away. Rose's hold on him grew tighter.

Of course his body decided to take her embrace as positive encouragement and offered a suggestion as to what he could do to make himself feel better, much to his annoyance. He was quite sure Rose felt the reaction to her touch, but she didn't move, if anything she buried herself further into him.

"You're here now," she soothed in a voice that was barely loud enough to be a whisper.

Wrapping his arms more firmly around her, he held her close and pressed his lips to the top of her head.

That night, for the first time in years, he fell asleep in her arms

_**To be continued...**_


	12. Another Step In the Right Direction

**Chapter Eleven: Another Step In the Right Direction**

It wasn't the alarm clock that woke him up.

Actually, a quick glance at the time told him he'd slept right though it.

For the briefest of moments that observation didn't faze him, he merely buried his face back into his pillow and tried to sink back into oblivion when realization dawned on him and he bolted upright.

The pillow beside him was empty.

Tossing back the duvet he sprang out of bed and ran for the door, only to be assailed by the warm scents of breakfast before he'd managed to fling it open. He silently pleaded for Rose to still be in the flat. He couldn't stand for her to leave for Cardiff without him having a chance to tell her goodbye. True she was only a train ride away, but he still wanted to see her one more time before she left.

"Rose?" he called, jogging out of the room.

"In the kitchen," she responded.

More than just a little pleased, he practically ran across the flat and into the kitchen, where he found her bending over to find something in the fridge.

He was disappointed to find her already dressed, wondering slightly at his sudden desire to see her in her tiny sleep shorts. Her jeans hid her frankly gorgeous legs. They displayed the shape well enough, but he rather liked to see her skin. Perhaps that was why he appreciated her more common wardrobe choices.

"You're not wearing a skirt today?" he asked, before his brain even had a chance to filter the thought.

Rose raised an eyebrow at him as she straightened up and set the jug of juice on the worktop.

"Not working at the office today," she said, as if that explained everything.

She smirked at him and rolled her eyes before she turned away from him, her attention clearly focused on breakfast preparations.

No longer worried he'd missed his companion's departure, the Doctor decided to investigate the warm delicious scent that permeated the air of the flat. It was a buttery toasty cake smell. Familiar but not quite recognizable with his human senses.

"What are you making?" he asked, eagerly looking over Rose's shoulder.

The waffle iron was enough to answer his eager question. The words had barely left his lips when Rose opened it and pulled out a perfect waffle and plopped it down on a nearby plate that she held out to him with a smile. He grinned at her in return.

It had been ages since he'd eaten waffles. He wondered what they would taste like with this particular tongue, dulled taste buds and all.

He cheerfully took his breakfast to the table, where Rose joined him within a few short minutes. The two of them ate in companionable silence until it was most definitely time to get on with their day.

*.*.*.*

The Doctor fluffed his damp hair as they stepped into the lift. Wrinkling his lip in mild disgust, he studied his reflection in the lift doors and raked his fingers through his wet locks

"You should have dried it," Rose laughed, pressing the button for the ground floor.

"It'll be dry in about fifteen minutes," he argued.

"Then you'll be fussing about it not being right all day."

"Will not."

Rose simply gave him a look that told him she knew she was right. It was enough to make him shove his hands into his pockets.

The doorman greeted them by name as they left.

Sometimes Rose wondered what he thought about the Doctor's frequent visits. Actually she wondered what most people thought about her relationship with him. Him staying over two nights in a row would be more than enough to make them believe all their assumptions were correct.

The Doctor was sulking as he walked beside her. If she called him on it, he'd deny it.

"You'll be back on Saturday?" he asked.

She couldn't help but smile. "Yeah."

"Good." He nodded and stayed silent.

She slipped her hand into his, smiling softy at him when he looked down at her in surprise. He laced his fingers through hers.

"Do you mind checking on Bingley while I'm gone?" she asked, realizing that he wouldn't know about that agreement.

The other him came round her flat for television and food, but he was to feed the cat when she was out of town. That was his way of earning his keep.

"Of course I can go round and check on him."

"Thank you."

He smiled shyly, as if he was as unsure of what they were as she was. Giving her hand a firm squeeze, he dropped it before they walked into Torchwood tower.

She could hear her lengthy diatribe about Torchwood's policies on dating in his actions. Her fingers closed and felt painfully empty. How she'd missed holding his hand.

The two of them walked past security and on toward the bank of lifts, the Doctor adjusting the strap of his bag as they made their way. He didn't wander far from her side as she checked in with various members of her staff and sorted through paperwork.

If he had wanted to, he could have gone on to the mansion without her, but she had a feeling he didn't want to let her out of his sight just yet.

That idea warmed her heart.

S_he _didn't exactly want to be away from him until she had to be, which was a little unsettling since she had wanted him as far away as possible only a short week before.

Well maybe not far away, but she didn't want to deal with him after everything that had happened between them.

Shaking her head to remove the memory of that particular stress, she informed the doctor it was time for them to head out to the mansion.

*.*.*.*

"You can drive?" the Doctor asked in mild disbelief as they walked into the Torchwood garage.

They'd gone to the Tower so Rose could check in and drop off paperwork before stopping round at her mother's, where the Doctor would be spending the next few days.

"Standard training," Rose informed him as she sat down in a sleek black sedan.

The Doctor quickly hopped into the passenger seat and buckled his seat belt.

Rose was definitely full of surprises. First the gun and now the car. He wasn't quite sure what he should be expecting next.

Fluency in Japanese, perhaps?

He was fascinated, watching her skillfully navigate the streets with such confidence. Of course driving a car wasn't terribly difficult to learn, but the sheer fact the Rose he had lost at Canary Wharf all those years ago was the one currently driving him around made him feel so utterly proud of her.

She was definitely amazing, his Rose.

As they drove farther and farther from Torchwood tower, the Doctor found himself wondering why he had been so adamant about leaving her in this world, when all he wanted was to be with her.

*.*.*.*

"Pete's not even here," Rose complained, glancing at her phone before shoving it in her pocket.

The sigh she let out was more than enough for him to question her reasons for wanting to see her step-father before she left.

"What do you need?"

"I have some things he needs to sign off on," she said enigmatically.

With a frustrated air, she thrust her key into the door and unlocked it. "Seems Mum's still out too, so I_'ll _give you the tour."

The Doctor waved vaguely to his head. "I do know where some things are."

Rose stopped dead in her tracks and spun around to face him. "If t_hat _happens again while you're here, I want to know."

"I'm fine," he argued.

"You're not."

She gave him the severe look he couldn't argue with, the one that told him she wasn't going to let it go no matter what he said.

"I'll call if it happens again."

"Good." Rose gave him another pointed look that told him he had better follow through and then her face softened. "Let's get you settled in."

She led him up the stairs and down the hallway until they reached a door that felt relatively familiar.

The Doctor realized he knew this room as the one he'd-well not h_im _exactly-stayed in after the farewell at Bad Wolf Bay. The memory of the room was there, but the attachment was nowhere to be found.

He was used to a disconnect of memories from previous regenerations, but there was still usually an underlying emotional link.

This one had nothing

It was just a room.

He didn't exactly like the emptiness of the non-feeling.

He dropped his bag on the end of the bed. Knowledge of this room led to thoughts about the owners of the other rooms. Rose's room was just two doors away and Tony's was nearly on the other side of the house, closer to Jackie and Pete's room.

Rose's eyes studied him as he took in his accommodations.

"You alright?" she asked, worry evident in her voice.

"I'm fine," he assured her with a smile. "No memory troubles today."

To prove his point he rapped on the side of his head.

Rose rolled her eyes, trying to look annoyed but failing. She was definitely anxious about him, and there was nothing he could say to change that.

"Loo's just there, right?" He pointed to a door across the hall from his room.

"Yeah."

"Just checking." He smirked and walked in that direction. His question had been enough to remind his bladder it was quite full again.

"I'll be downstairs," Rose told him before he'd shut the door behind him.

*.*.*.*

His first thought upon walking down the stairs was that he was smelling more girly by the day. That was quickly followed by the realization that he really didn't care. The soap he'd washed his hands with had a rather pleasant floral scent that actually complemented the shampoo he'd used at Rose's flat earlier that morning. He smelled like Rose.

That definitely wasn't a bad thought.

Coming down the stairs, he made the sharp right round the banister and down the short hall to the kitchen.

Apparently Jackie had returned during the relief of his bladder, as he found her talking to Rose in the kitchen when he walked through the door.

"You wrote it all down?" Rose asked in disbelief as Jackie pulled a few sheets of paper out of a drawer. "I want to be sure I tell him everything."

"It's just three days, Mum," Rose laughed. "Not even that. Tonight, tomorrow, and Saturday morning. Then I_'ll _be here."

"It's the Doctor. You know how he is."

"He's 900 years old, Mum. I should think he can run a household for three days without things going up in flames."

"What about water? Remember the dishwasher and that f_lood _because I certainly haven't forgotten it."

"I told you I could have gotten someone else. I can still have Jake come round, if you want."

"No. It's fine." Jackie waved her off and set the list on the worktop.

"Tony and the Doctor get along well," Rose consoled. "The Doctor won't let anything happen to him."

Feeling he'd eavesdropped long enough on a conversation about himself, the Doctor stated his agreement with Rose's sentiments, startling both women. He'd expected them to jump in surprise, but Rose's reaction startled him.

Not only did she automatically move away from the door, her hand went to her hip-where he assumed she normally holstered a gun.

He wasn't sure if he would be able to get used to Rose with a gun.

"Hello," he chirped, trying to ignore the discomfort of Rose's movement.

"Why do you have to sneak up like that?" Jackie snapped.

"Sorry," he apologized. "I didn't mean to."

Attempting to ignore their pointed stares, he thoughtfully sniffed his hands again.

"Lovely soap you have. What scent is it? Some sort of citrus I should think."

"Grapefuit," Jackie informed him, rolling her eyes.

"Grapefruit. Lovely. Complements that coconut shampoo of yours I used this morning, Rose," he said brightly, turning a happy smile to Rose who didn't seem to pleased by his remark.

The look Jackie Tyler gave her daughter reminded him that he needed to remember to think b_efore _he spoke. Though, Jackie didn't look angry, exactly. She was more annoyed and perhaps a little worried.

The Doctor began to wonder exactly how much she knew about the events that had taken place over the past week and a half. Rose firmly refused to offer any sort of explanation and the Doctor decided it was best to follow her example. He had a way of complicating things without meaning to. He still wasn't sure he had ever cleared up that mess with Martha's mother and her assumptions from his vague answers about their activities.

Thankfully, Jackie chose to change the subject.

She thrust a key into his palm.

"That opens the front door," she told him. "There's a key to the Jeep in that drawer." She pointed across the kitchen. "For emergencies only, but it's there if you need it."

The last statement was accompanied by a hard look from Rose. He had a feeling Rose had discussed his memory issues with her mother as well. Part of him wondered just what Jackie knew, while part of him hoped he never found out.

The key had only been the beginning of the instructions. Jackie launched into an explanation which could possibly rival one of his.

"Tony needs to be in bed by nine at the latest or he will be cranky in the morning. Don't let him watch anything scary before bedtime or the both of you will be awake all night. No chocolate or sweets before bed for the same reason. Keep a close eye on him. He likes to think he can ride his bicycle whenever he likes, so he could be out the door before you ever realize it."

Snatching the papers off the worktop, Jackie skimmed her list.

"Set the burglar alarm every night. I will call to remind you, if you need me to."

"We'll be fine Jackie," the Doctor assured her.

"You better be," she stated, handing him the list. "All our phone numbers are on there. My mobile and Pete's. The hotel is there too."

"And you have my number," Rose added before turning to her mother. "Pete's at Torchwood?"

"Yeah. He had to go in for something. I don't know. If you give him a ring, I'm sure he'll stay until you get there with your paperwork."

"I'll have Mitch print another copy and get him to sign it," Rose said, stepping forward to give Jackie a hug. "I should go. Have fun, Mum. Love you."

She turned a smile to the Doctor and told him not to get into "too much trouble", but he didn't receive a hug. He nodded and tried not to feel disappointed by the lack of an embrace as Rose walked out of the room.

Even though he tried his best not to, he watched her progression away from him and toward the door. After a few short steps, she stopped and turned around.

Closing the distance between them, she wrapped her arms around him.

"I want the house to be standing when I get back."

The Doctor laughed and held her close. "Of course."

With a soft peck on his cheek, she pulled away from him and headed back to the front door and her car.

He listened for the door to open and close before he followed her path and watched her drive away.

*.*.*.*

"You're like a lovesick puppy," Jackie laughed as she walked up to him.

Her voice had broken the Doctor out of his thoughts, and he realized he had been behaving just as she described, standing by the window and looking out at the gate Rose had driven out of a quarter hour ago.

Embarrassed, he ran and hand through his hair and scratched at the back of his neck, searching for something he could say to deflect Jackie's comment. But, considering the fact it was completely true, he had nothing.

"Come on." She nodded her head toward the door. "Let's go get Tony."

The Doctor was more than willing to trot after Jackie. It meant they didn't have to talk about the fact he was already missing Rose, and she hadn't even been gone an hour yet. It was obviously going to be a long weekend.

"Wait for me," he called, chasing after her.

Jackie walked around the car parked out front and made her way out to the pavement, which was a bit of a surprise for the Doctor.

Considering his memory of the distance between the Tyler mansion and any commercial property was confirmed by Rose's drive up there, he had expected Jackie to pick Tony up from the nursery in a car, not on foot.

"Thought it would be best to walk you there," Jackie explained. "Rose doesn't want you driving, and the way is a bit different on foot."

As if the reiterate that fact, she cut across the street and onto a path that ran through a nearby park.

"You need to have him at school by a quarter to nine tomorrow morning an pick him up at three."

"Quarter to nine and three," the Doctor repeated, wondering if he would actually remember that by tomorrow.

His more human neurons had a little more difficulty when it came to short-term memory, or that was the new excuse he liked when he didn't remember something exactly when he should.

Slightly worried he might find that fact wiped from the front of his mind by sleep, he decided it was better to be safe than sorry and asked, "That's on your list, right?"

Jackie nodded.

"Good."

They both shared a laugh as they walked toward the schoolyard.

"So you and Rose…" she started. "Worked things out?"

"Sort of."

"You stayed over last night?"

"It's not what you think. I just slept over. That's all," he defended.

"Calm down. I'm not going to interrogate you." She smiled and shook her head as he sighed in relief. "I just want my daughter to be happy."

"Right."

He raked his hand through his hair. Not quite sure where he wanted this conversation to go, but he hoped it didn't venture anywhere near his former sex life with one Rose Tyler. That was not something he really wanted to discuss with Jackie.

Narrowing her eyes, she warned him not to hurt Rose again.

Any follow up comment was forgotten as little Tony Tyler appeared beside his mother and smiled cheerfully up at the Doctor.

"Hiya!"

*.*.*.*

The Doctor bid Jackie farewell one last time, assuring her the house would definitely be standing when she returned. She'd threatened his life if it wasn't, though she didn't seem to be that worried.

Tony gave her one last hug before she and Pete left, begging for them to bring him back a present.

Once the door was shut and locked, the Doctor turned to his little charge, suddenly finding himself at a loss.

"What do you want to do?" he asked, hoping the five-year-old might have a few interesting ideas.

The boy shrugged. "I don't know. What do you want to do?"

Something about Tony's response told the Doctor he was in for a long three days.

**t**_**o be continued…**_


	13. Waiting In Limbo

Sorry, it has been a while since I have posted. I will try to be more timely about it, but as you all have figured out, I can't make any promises. I should post chapter 13 some time this coming week. I hope you enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter Twelve:** Waiting in Limbo

It was horribly quiet in the hotel room. Rose dropped her bag on the end of her bed as she flopped onto the mattress. She hated these conferences. They were more draining than a long day out on the field.

She had little more than an hour before the first meeting.

That wasn't much time to rest, especially since her stomach was loudly informing her of its need for attention. Food had been pretty low on her list of priorities since breakfast. Actually, she wasn't sure she'd eaten anything since that waffle.

Hoisting herself upright, Rose snatched her ID badge and room key off the duvet and set off to find something to eat before she had to sit for two hours listening to someone introducing the topics they would cover over the next day.

There was supposed to be a meal provided, but she wasn't sure she could wait that long.

Rose definitely wasn't alone in her impatience. A decent number of Torchwood personnel were already seated in the restaurant when she found it.

Jess waved her over to join her table.

"Thought you talked your way out of coming," Rose asked. "Wedding this weekend and all."

"Yeah… Let's just say they gave me an offer I couldn't refuse," Jess grinned.

Mitch rubbed his fingers together insinuating the powers that be had likely given Jess a monetary bonus to attend the training seminar.

The gesture gained him an elbow to the ribs.

The others laughed at his expense and then changed the topic of conversation to the plans for the wedding party, goading the bride to be about their various fictitious plans to cause a scene at the reception.

Rose was enjoying the company and the meal when something in her pocket vibrated, eliciting a startled yelp. She'd forgotten she had her mobile on her.

The alert on the screen told her she had received a new message from the Doctor.

_Am I allowed to miss you?_

Rose laughed, and realized she'd been missing him too. It only took her a few seconds to type her three letter reply.

_Yes_

His response came in less than a minute.

_Good_

Already knowing the answer but feeling a little ornery, she asked, _Why?_

_Because I do_, was his answer.

Rose typed out another message but didn't hit send. She started to erase it before she was able to screw up the courage to send it. _I miss you too._

After a few moments thought, she decided to ask him, _How's Tony?_

_He's great. Beat me at Mario. Twice! :)_

The laugh that gained was enough to draw the rest of the table's attention toward Rose and her mobile.

"Who's got you so happy?" Jess teased.

"The Doctor's watching Tony, and it seems Tony's beaten him at Mario," Rose explained with a smile.

She laughed again at the message before tucking her mobile back into her pocket for safe keeping.

"Thing is," Rose began. "The Doctor's normally really good with video games. Mickey used to talk about him beating him at shoot 'em up games having not fired a single shot."

"I think I remember him saying that," Mitch laughed. "Good ol' Mickey. Whatever did happen to him?"

"He went home."

"Right," Mitch nodded, knowing better than to continue on with that topic.

Noticing the time, the three of them quickly finished their food and paid the bill, so they could get a move on.

Rose let the Doctor know she was shutting her phone off until she got back to her room later that night.

*.*.*.*

Collapsing onto her bed, Rose turned her phone back on to find a reply to the last message she'd sent to the Doctor.

_OK. Call me._ That seemed to have been closely followed by, _I liked Nintendo better when they made playing cards_

The phone rang twice before the Doctor cheerfully answered, "Rose! Hello!"

"Nintendo made playing cards?"

"What? Oh, right. The message. Yes, they did. Hanafuda cards actually. Remember the second time we went to Japan?" he offered hopefully.

Rose had to think. She rolled the word over in her head a few seconds before it finally fitted with the appropriate memory; though, the definition of 'appropriate' would need to be stretched to fit the particular memory, as there had been some interesting alterations to the rules after they'd had a bit to drink.

"Hanafuda… those are the ones with the flowers on them, right?"

"Yes!" he exclaimed. "I love that game."

"Except when I beat you at it," she laughed.

"I let you win."

Remembering how many layers of clothing she'd been able to get off him before they forgot about playing anymore, Rose wasn't so sure if he was to be believed. He hadn't won too many rounds, and she could have been much more naked before the cards were set aside for more stimulating activities.

But she'd let him think he'd let her win…perhaps.

Smiling with her tongue between her teeth, she teased, "So you claim."

She could practically hear his smug smirk through the phone speaker, and she couldn't help but giggle, a hot flush rising in her cheeks. Maybe he'd been having fun getting her to tell him what articles of clothing to take off.

"Oh, God! That entire game was two hours of foreplay, wasn't it?" she gasped.

The Doctor choked on the other side of the line. He sounded vaguely like he had been drinking something and had sputtered it before he spoke again.

"Maybe?"

Rose chewed on her lip as she mulled that idea over again and was struck with a more amusing conclusion.

"You planned that all along didn't you?"

He'd suggested the game, then the sake and then, after she was on her way to being smashed, the rule changes.

"Well—"

"You did!" she interrupted. "Were you still too much of a coward to seduce me while I was sober?"

"That is a harsh accusation, Rose," he offensively declared. "I most certainly _did_ seduce you while sober many times." He paused momentarily before thoughtfully adding, "Repeatedly, actually."

"Only you could get to us having sex from Nintendo."

There was a laugh on the Doctor's side.

"I wasn't the one who started discussing our physical relationship," he said. "I only spoke about cards and a game I absolutely adore. You're the one who mentioned sex. O-"

His next sentence was interrupted by a monstrous yawn.

"Sorry," he apologized. "As I was going to say… On that note, I think we should both be off to bed. You have a long day in front of you, and I have an energetic five-year-old to look after."

"How is Tony? Did he go to bed alright?"

"Yeah. Fine. I read him a story. Then I told him a story."

"Oh?"

"Part of my book, I think."

"What is this one about? Aside from two children having adventures, that is."

"Poppy and Ian rescue a princess and find the magic horse. But, honestly, Rose, as much as I would love to talk to you all night- and believe me, I would. I think it would be best for both of us if we said goodnight. I promise to read you what I have written when you get home."

It was almost painful to end the conversation and hang up the phone. Not having his voice in her ear reminded her that she really was going to be sleeping alone. She hadn't realized how much she'd missed actually sleeping with him in bed with her until she'd spent the past two nights with him laying beside her.

Reluctantly setting the phone down on the bedside table, she changed, brushed her teeth and crawled into the strange bed.

It was only two nights.

She could survive until Saturday.

*.*.*.*

The Doctor had managed to get Tony up, dressed, fed and to school on time, and was quite proud of himself for managing to do so. After dropping off his charge with his educators, the Doctor decided to focus on writing, but the amusement ended after little more than an hour and a half.

It wasn't long before he found himself pacing the floor, and doing his very best to avoid the urge to call Rose.

She was busy, and he knew that ringing her during a meeting, seminar, or what ever it was she was attending at that particular moment, would get one or both of them in trouble.

More than likely it would be him that would be in trouble, and an angry Rose was something he never liked dealing with.

Therefore, it was of immense relief when Jake rang out of the blue asking if he was up for football.

"I know you've got Tony, but we really need a fourth."

Glancing at the clock, the Doctor realized he only had a few short hours before he needed to pick Tony up from school. Meeting his mates at their usual place would mean they would barely get any playing done, or he would be late picking the boy up, and the latter wasn't an option.

There was a viable alternative.

"Do you think we could play up here?" he offered.

He actually would really like to kick a football around right then. If they said no, he'd probably hunt for one down in the garage and take Tony out to the park.

Even if they did play up there, he could still take Tony out.

"Don't see why not," Jake said. "Nice little park area up there."

"See you in…" the Doctor prompted, trying to remember how long it would take them to get up there.

Jake laughed. "We'll be there in about an hour."

*.*.*.*

Bending over as he caught his breath the Doctor wondered how Rose had been able to keep up with him all those years. Human lung capacity was nothing compared to that of a Time Lord. Yet another thing he would need to get used to.

"You alright, mate?" Jake's friend Bob asked.

"I'm fine," he replied before taking a long drink from his water bottle.

Finally able to breathe properly he glanced at his watch and realized he needed to be on his way. Shouting to his mates that he needed to make a school run, he jogged off to pick up Tony.

He arrived just as the children came flooding out the doors. His little ginger haired charge appeared beside him before he'd even given a good look at the children rushing out to their parents.

"You're all sweaty," Tony informed him.

"Been playing football," the Doctor informed him.

"No fair."

"Everyone's still here. You can join us."

"Really?"

"Why not."

The two of them went dashing off to join the Doctor's mates on the far side of the park.

Tony had thrown down his school bag and made a mad dash for the football as soon as he saw Jake and the others.

"I want to play!" he shouted.

"Woah there." Bob caught his shoulders before he was close enough to kick the ball. "Need to wait and hear the rules first."

"Oh," Tony breathed.

"Yeah," Jake agreed. "You always need to know the rules before you join the game."

"So, what are the rules?"

"Me, Jake, the Doctor, and Michael are on one side," Bob explained pointing out his teammates. "Those two trees there are our goal. You'll be with us."

"Geoff, Marcus, Fred, and Tim are on the other side and they are using the bin and bench as their goal," the Doctor added once he'd caught his breath again.

One they were sure Tony understood things as thoroughly as he was able, they rsumed their positions and went back to their game, keeping their kicks a little lower and easier so the little boy could keep up.

*.*.*.*

Tony and the Doctor walked back toward the Tyler mansion in happy exhaustion. Or perhaps it was only the doctor who was properly exhausted as Tony was happily skipping beside him, swinging their joined hands merrily.

"Do you have kids?" Tony asked.

The Doctor looked down at him in surprise. That definitely was not a question he'd been expecting, and there was no way he could pull off the enigmatic answer he'd given Rose before.

'_I was a dad once'_, would gain more questions from the five-year-old than it had from his sister.

Seeing only one option, he decided to go with the most straight forward answer, the one about his state right in that moment.

"No."

"Why?"

Oh dear. What was he supposed to say to that? He couldn't vary well explain the truth. How do you tell a child about molecular structures and the time variables and background radiation in way he can understand it?

Not to mention he didn't think saying his other children died in the time war would go over well when it was repeated to Jackie.

Wracking his brain for any reason that would lead to fewer questions from the little boy, the Doctor found himself remembering Rose's lecture on Torchwood policies. Even if he were no longer within her chain of command, they weren't to have children unless they met one more requirement.

"Because I'm not married."

"Oh, yeah," Tony agreed.

He nodded sagely, as if the Doctor's answer had been the most logical explanation ever given. At least that was the case for the first few seconds until his face turned quizzical.

"But I thought you and Rose were married?"

The Doctor stopped dead in his tracks.

"Why do you think Rose and I are married?"

"Er…" Tony stared up at him wide eyed. "Shouldn't we get out of the street?"

"Oh!" the Doctor exclaimed as a car beeped its horn at them.

He quickly tugged Tony across to the other side and out of harm's way. Once they were safely on the pavement, he knelt down in front of his charge and repeated his question.

"You only have one bed in your flat," Tony explained simply.

Quirking an eyebrow, the Doctor laughed. That answer needed more details before he could understand it.

Ruffling Tony's hair, the Doctor decided he'd delve into that assumption later.

"What do you say we go round to check on Bingley for Rose and get a pizza on the way home?"

Tony was more than happy to agree to that offer.

*.*.*.*

Some hours later found the Doctor sitting on the end of Tony's bed. The both of them were bathed and changed into pyjamas, or at least sleepwear. The Doctor had changed into a comfortable t-shirt and boxer shorts and Tony in much the same.

He had discovered a preference of sleeping au naturel in his human state accounted for the lack of sleep clothing in his possession, but he figured wandering the mansion completely starkers would not gain him points with either Rose or Jackie.

Not to mention Tony would likely copy him as he had decided he should go to bed in a t-shirt and pants to be dressed as close to the Doctor as possible.

Considering the fact that imitation was the sincerest form of flattery, the Doctor didn't mind that Tony was mimicking him. His only concern was that he would do something that would get the both of them in trouble.

"Will you tell me more tomorrow?" Tony asked as she snuggled deeper into his pillow and pulled his blanket up to his chin.

"Of course," the Doctor promised, patting the boy's head.

"I like this story," Tony informed him. "I want a magic horse like Arthur. Then I could see real pirates."

"Trust me, mate. Real pirates are nothing like what you see in those Disney films."

"I don't care. I want to meet a pirate."

"Maybe you will some day," the Doctor whispered as he stood and walked toward the door and switched off the lights.

"Goodnight, Doctor."

"Goodnight, Tony."

Carefully shutting the door behind him, the Doctor walked down the hallway to his bedroom.

The bed didn't look terribly inviting, though that had little to do with the soft duvet and the comfortable sheets. He just preferred sharing a bed with Rose. Any bed was welcoming if it had his favourite companion in it.

If he was being honest with himself, the Doctor would have to admit that his main reason for not going in was because he didn't want to toss and turn in an empty bed.

Rather than risk the needless tumultuous sleep, he wandered back down stairs to the den and collapsed on the sofa with the television remote control. A few mindless hours of brain killing programming would be more than enough to lull him into a stupor and possible sleep.

*.*.*.*

He must have drifted off, because he definitely wasn't awake when his mobile rang, as it took ages for his mind to kick in and confirm what that infernal noise beside his head was.

It took even more effort for him to remember how to answer the call.

"Hello?", he mumbled.

"Sorry," Rose's voice exclaimed from the speaker of the phone. "Did I wake you?"

"Oh, Rose. Hello. No," he rambled, his brain still trying to come to. "Well… yes, but that's alright. Is everything alright?"

"Yes. I was just calling to see how your day has gone."

"Quite well. The house is still standing," the Doctor laughed, rolling over to his side and happily cradling the phone to his ear.

"That's always good."

"Yeah."

"He hasn't been any trouble for you?"

"No. We get on quite well."

"I'm sure you do. You're nothing but a big kid yourself."

"That's not a fair accusation."

"But it's true."

"Didn't say it wasn't," the Doctor laughed before his mood sobered and his mind was flooded with doubts about Rose's motive for calling. "Everything's still on schedule right? You will be back tomorrow?"

"Yes. I'll be round mid afternoon."

He let out a side of relief. He'd been worried she'd be back late. "Good."

After a taking a few moments to gather his thoughts, he decided to venture an new idea for Rose to consider.

"I know we can't do anything tomorrow, because we have Tony, but I was wondering if you wanted to go out this week."

"You want to take me out on another date?"

"Well, last Tuesday things didn't really work out, so I thought maybe we could give it another go, or we could go out on Monday night after you're finished at work, that way we could sleep in on Tuesday."

"Have it all planned, do you?"

"Not really. I was just thinking. I mean, now we have to schedule when we see each other."

"And there aren't as many planets to save."

"Or dictators to overthrow."

"Or master plots to foil."

"Or days to spend doing absolutely nothing…"

"And wishing it were more exciting?"

"No, simply doing nothing. Those lazy days spent somewhere quiet, or at your mum's flat, which wasn't all that quiet most of the time, but still somehow relaxing."

"So what would we do Monday night?"

"Go down the local, or go dancing. Something like what we did on that New Year's after I regenerated, maybe. I don't know. I'm not good at planning this whole date thing. It's not quite the same as asking, 'when and where,' or just throwing the TARDIS into some random point in time and space."

"All you did was complain that New Year's. I had to drag you out of Mum's flat kicking and screaming."

"I was not kicking and screaming."

"Seemed like it."

"You didn't say if you would or not," he reminded, not wanting to argue whether or not he threw a childish fit over going out with Rose on New Year's Eve nearly eight years before.

He might have whinged a little, but he certainly didn't kick or scream.

"Yeah, I'll go out with you. Did you have any plans for us on Tuesday as well?"

"As I said, I thought we'd sleep in. Then… perhaps… I don't know… do something that afternoon, or not. We could just stay in. I could make breakfast."

He found the words difficult to articulate. He wanted to be with Rose so badly it hurt and he couldn't stand the idea that she would refuse him, but he wouldn't do anything to force her.

"Oh, so you think you'll get to sleep over then?" she giggled.

The teasing tone of her question made him smile and feel more optimistic.

"Hoping I'll be allowed to," he said playfully.

"We'll see," she replied. "I've got to go. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yes. See you tomorrow. Goodnight, Rose."

"Goodnight, Doctor."

_**To be continued….**_


	14. Cohesion

**Chapter Thirteen:** Cohesion

Tony and the Doctor had found one of the most comfortable carpets in the house and had taken it over. They were lying on their bellies with a chessboard set up between them and a few packets of crisps lay within their reach.

"But Mummy and Daddy could adopt you," Tony offered for the fourth time that weekend, moving his pawn forward.

It would seem Rose had failed to inform the Doctor that her little brother was adamant about having a brother and had gotten it into his head that the Doctor was the perfect candidate. If he wasn't married to Rose, the Doctor could be adopted by his parents.

It seemed like a perfectly logical option to a five-year-old.

The Doctor popped a small handful of crisps into his mouth before he moved his rook and suggested a move to Tony.

"They could, but I don't want to be Rose's brother."

"But…"

"No," he laughed. "That wouldn't work. Just trust me on that."

"Why not?"

"It's complicated. Grown-up stuff, you know."

"Okay," Tony conceded.

The Doctor opened his mouth to again explain how there was no reason for Jackie and Pete to adopt him, but he was interrupted by a door opening and Rose's voice calling out to them. Impulse told him to leap to his feet and run toward her, throwing his arms around her, but he chose to stay were he was to maintain some sense of dignity as he watched Tony do just that.

"Rose!" Tony squealed, running across the hall.

"Tony!" she said laughing.

Moments later, she appeared in the doorway with her brother in her arms. The Doctor casually pulled himself to his feet and smiled at her.

"No hug?" she teased, putting Tony back down.

Not needing to be asked twice, the Doctor grinned wider and threw his arms around her.

*.*.*.*

Rose had hardly had time to settle in—she'd sat down to watch the other two play chess—when Tony announced that he was getting hungry.

A few short minutes later found the three of them in the kitchen. Each one was working on preparing a different ingredient of their dinner.

Tony was standing on a chair the Doctor had pulled up for him, peeling garlic, while the Doctor stood beside him skillfully dicing an onion. Each wiped a few tears from his eyes before the Doctor was finished.

Rose laughed at the both of them from the other side of the kitchen as she minced the chicken and then checked the heat of the cooker.

"Careful," the Doctor warned as he helped Tony back up onto his chair closer to the cooker.

Though she wasn't so sure she approved of the Doctor letting her brother get so close to the hot pans, she was impressed by how he guided him, keeping him from burning himself as they sautéed the onions and more than once pulling a stray hand away from the edge of the pan.

She'd always liked cooking with the Doctor, but this was the first time she had ever considered his abilities in the kitchen in a familial environment. His interaction with Tony was more than enough to make her mind wander.

It wasn't long before she wondered if the Doctor would be that engaged with his own children. What surprised her more than that thought was the reaslization she was imagining him with _their_ children.

Children with the Doctor.

That was definitely not a thought she'd entertained in a while. Not since before they had had the very long discussion about the dangers of pregnancy aboard the TARDIS.

Trying to shake the idea, she forced herself to focus on simply watching her brother and the Doctor cook.

The Doctor helped Tony shift the ingredients around the pan as they added more seasonings to the dish. He talked the boy through each step and explained why order and timing was so important to the meal turning out right.

He'd been very interested in teaching her like that once upon a time, except lessons occasionally ended in burnt food, more for the cooks' distraction than from the lack of skill.

There was a reason Rose's bedroom on the TARDIS had relocated to be closer to the main kitchen.

"And we're finished," the Doctor announced, his voice pulling Rose out of her thoughts.

They quickly plated the food and carried it into the dining room, which the Doctor and Tony had prepared before Rose's arrival.

"I can't wait to tell Mum that I cooked dinner," Tony announced proudly as he took his seat.

"I can't wait to see her face when you tell her who helped you," Rose laughed.

"Oi!" the Doctor exclaimed, attempting to look hurt. "You're mother knows I cook."

Rose raised an eyebrow.

"Doesn't she?"

She smirked at him, still not saying a word.

"The toaster still doesn't count," he retorted, remembering an incident from the Powell Estates.

Tony looked up at him in confusion. "What happened to the toaster? It looked fine to me."

With a laugh, Rose shook her head.

"Don't worry about it, Tony. That happened well before you were born."

"Okay," he shrugged and went back to shoveling his food into his mouth.

The Doctor knew that would not be the last time he would be asked about the toaster. He cast a frustrated look at Rose, who merely shrugged at him in amusement.

He had been the one to mention it, after all.

Thanks to the conversation being killed by the toaster, they finished their meal in relative silence. Then it was time for Tony to go to bed for the night, much to his great disappointment.

The day never had enough hours in it to suit him.

*.*.*.*

Once Tony was tucked up in bed for the night, more than one story told to him from the Doctor's repertoire, the Doctor and Rose returned to the kitchen to tidy up the things they had left out during dinner preparations.

"Tony thinks we're married," the Doctor mentioned quietly.

He was trying for nonchalance but didn't exactly succeed.

He carefully kept his eyes focused on the plate he was loading in the dishwasher and trying his best to seem as if Rose's reaction to that statement wasn't the least bit important to him.

"I suppose that is a logical assumption," Rose said.

The Doctor's head snapped up. "You think so?"

"He does think we live together." She shrugged and put the containers of leftover food in the fridge.

"You never chose to correct him?"

"Kept him from asking to go to your place."

He grimaced in annoyance, but quickly realized she did have a good point there. His flat, obviously, was not kid friendly.

"Besides," Rose said. "We are married. In a manner of speaking."

With a half laugh he turned a smile toward her. He hadn't thought about their odd collection of marriages in a while.

"How many was it, again?" She asked, pulling a clean glass out of the cupboard. "Ten… No, that's not right. Was it eleven times?"

"Seventeen," the Doctor corrected. "You and I have been married seventeen times."

"Seventeen?" Rose looked flabbergasted. "I definitely don't remember seventeen. I was thinking twelve or thirteen at most, considering the amount of alcohol we drank on some planets."

"A few were when I had big ears," he smirked, tapping the edge of an ear for emphasis. "But you wouldn't have realized that was what they were. The marriages, that is, not the ears."

"No. I remember Kyoto. When I had to marry either you or Jack to keep my 'honour' or something like that." She smiled wistfully. "I'm sorry I put you in that position. I suppose I could have married Jack instead."

He quickly crossed the distance between them as she spoke.

"No," he argued, his nose mere inches from hers. "I would have done it again in a heartbeat."

"Really?"

"Yes."

She reached up a tentative hand and stroked his cheek.

The touch of her skin against his broke the last of his self control and he gave in to desire. Dipping his head down, he claimed her mouth, hoping she would forgive him.

Rather than shoving him away as he feared, Rose pulled him closer and pressed her body firmly against his. She even stayed clinging to him when his body chose to react to her proximity, reading more into the situation than was likely going to happen.

When he finally broke the kiss, they both whispered quiet apologies for the boundary they had both broken.

"I need to shower," Rose stammered. "Goodnight."

"Okay."

The Doctor jammed his hands into his pockets as she walked out of the room. Things seemed to have gone so well. What had he done wrong?

Reluctantly, he followed her up the stairs and went into his own room, loosing his tie and looking at his bed in distain. All day he'd looked forward to being able to hold Rose whilst he slept, but his blunder in the kitchen had likely cost him that.

If she didn't want him kissing her, why did she kiss him back so ardently?

Unbuttoning his shirt, he dropped it on the growing pile of clothing in the corner. He'd have to do his wash soon. His socks quickly followed after he'd removed his shoes.

He'd find a clean pair to wear to bed later.

Funny thing about being human: His toes would get cold when he slept. It was yet another thing he was trying to get used to. Thankfully, socks had been invented centuries earlier, thus chilly feet could be avoided.

His eyes wavered between his bag and the door. He could hunt down those elusive socks and undress for bed, or he could wait for Rose to finish with her shower so he could talk to her.

Really there wasn't much of a choice. He'd rather spend every waking moment with Rose, so his decision was easily made for him.

Shoving his hands back into his pockets, he wandered back out into the hallway and toward Rose's room.

It couldn't take her much longer to finish her shower.

Her bedroom door was partially open. The Doctor moved to knock on it as he was supposed to, but the sound of the shower from the en suite bathroom made him stop. She wouldn't hear him anyway.

Walking into the room, he plopped himself down on her bed, ready to patiently wait for her to emerge. Or at least the idea was to wait patiently. Two minutes into his patient waiting, the Doctor grew tired of sitting still. If he stayed put much longer, he was quite sure he would fall asleep.

Reaching into his pocket he pulled three distinct packages out and set them on the duvet. Even if they wouldn't get the use they were designed for, they would at least keep his hands busy.

*.*.*.*

He was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed when she emerged from the en suite bathroom. He was clad in only his trousers and t-shirt. He smiled hopefully up at her when she finally reappeared and then looked down at three small flat packages laid out in front of him.

Even though she felt it would have been in both their interests for him to have stayed in his own room, she wasn't unhappy at him for being there when she came out.

"I still don't understand these," he sighed, looking like he'd resigned himself to not knowing, something he thoroughly detested.

Rose couldn't help but smile at his befuddled expression. "You know, the flavored ones are for-"

The Doctor cut her off.

"I _do_ know that much." He picked the yellow package up and studied it like it contained the secrets of the universe. "Apparently that is supposed to be rather pleasant for me."

Rose was about to ask him about his new found information when he dropped the condom back onto the mattress, looking a little embarrassed, his cheeks flushed and his other hand running through his hair.

"At least that is what your mother's magazines say," he admitted hastily.

That image was more than enough to make her laugh at him. The Doctor sitting on her mother's sofa reading the sex tips in her mother's women's magazines. True he'd read many of the magazines Rose had brought on board the TARDIS in the old days, but he tended to skip _those_ sections, focusing on recipes he might like to try or the articles which sounded most interesting.

"You were reading Mum's magazines?"

"I may have glanced at them," he stammered.

"Right," Rose smirked, obviously not convinced.

Oh, how she missed teasing him about silly things, Rose thought as she moved toward the bed. The Doctor scooted over a little to give her some space, sweeping his three condoms with him.

The mattress sank slightly when she sat down on the edge of it, bravely picking up one of the foil packages and studying it herself.

"What don't you understand?"

"That one, actually." He motioned to green package in her hand. "Why does it need to glow in the dark?"

Flipping the packed over, Rose read the label and laughed. "Well you're the one who bought them, you tell me."

"It has to be in the light first so the phosphors can be excited. So you have to take it out of the wrapper and set it in the light for a few minutes before you put it on. But then it goes inside your partner, so you don't see much of it while it's in use. Why do there need to be glow in the dark condoms? Why does my phallus need to glow? Isn't the rush of blood enough to brighten it?"

There was long,s slow intake of breath before Rose could answer with a semi-straight face, her amusement still evident in the upward turned corners of her lips.

"Perhaps it makes things more interesting in the dark?" she offered, not really trying to be helpful.

It was fun watching him try to understand such things on his own. He looked so adorable when he was confused. His hair was usually rumbled from the constant pulling and he seemed just a little lost in the inner workings of his own head.

Wrinkling his mouth in disgust at what ever strange idea had crossed his mind, he snatched the condom from Rose's hand and placed it back on the bed in front of him.

"We were going to talk," he prompted.

Nodding in agreement, Rose turned toward him.

"What do you want to talk about?"

"Everything."

They stared at each other in silence. Both unsure of quite where to begin. The Doctor gathered the condoms into his hand and gave them a shuffle before setting them out again. He repeated the gesture two more times before he finally spoke.

"I married Queen Bess," he said quietly before grimacing like he wasn't quite sure he'd wanted to admit that.

"Did you really?"

Rose wanted to think he was joking but something about the way he held his body, guilt ridden and ashamed, told her he was telling the truth, as unbelievable as it seemed.

He hastily added, "Only married. It was never consummated."

His eyes were pleading her to believe him, begging her to understand it had nothing to do with her or _them_.

"I didn't… I couldn't…"

His words faltered as Rose fought to stifle a laugh.

"What?" he asked, not seeing the humor in his confession.

"Did she ask, 'Where is it?' when you stripped off?"

His eyebrows lowered in offense.

"No. That's only you," he snapped.

"Oh! I bet she did!" Rose squealed in delight, remembering the first time she'd ever had sex with the Doctor and her reaction to his equipment. "All that waiting and then thinking you can't do the deed. Oh, I'm sure she was furious. No wonder she was the Virgin Queen."

"She most certainly was _not_ a virgin," he glowered.

Rose snorted as she tried to keep back another laugh. For some reason that made her all the more sure of her theory. The following flush of his cheeks only added more confirmation.

He always acted as if sex was nothing special or unique until talk turned to his love life, then he'd get flustered and tongue-tied. He wasn't nearly as experienced as he liked to pretend. True, he had had a few 'adventures,' but going round the block a handful of times wasn't much to brag about at nearly a thousand years of age.

Patting him gently on the knee, she smiled, not willing to speak quite yet for she still had another fit of bubbling giggles threatening to surface.

The Doctor's bottom lip pushed out slightly and his shoulders slumped a bit more in what he would most certainly deny as being a pout had she accused him of sulking.

Thus they sat in uncomfortable silence for the next few minutes. The Doctor picked at the corner of one of the condom wrappers before setting the blue one atop of the green one and then the yellow one on top of that. Once stacked, he picked the yellow one back up and set it father away and then the blue one father still, so he had a line of condoms leading from his crossed legs when Rose finally spoke. [

"And how'd you know she wasn't a virgin?" Rose teased, tongue between her teeth as she gave him a cheeky grin.

"I'm not that oblivious," he declared. "Not to mention how _commanding_ she was about the whole thing. I don't think I could have even if I'd really wanted to."

"Thought you liked to be dominated from time to time."

The flush spread to his ears at her words as he stammered something that could have been 'only with you,' but Rose couldn't be sure as the words faded into the encroaching silence.

Feeling she'd tortured him long enough, and thinking it only fair to confess her own transgressions, Rose swallowed hard and looked up at him, wondering how he was going to react to what she was about to tell him.

"I was engaged."

The Doctor's head snapped up and his eyes met hers with an almost terrifying possessiveness.

"To whom?"

Rose shook her head. "You wouldn't know him. He was transferred the Cardiff before we got the dimension canon working."

Hand sweeping up the condoms and tucking them safely back into his trouser pocket, the Doctor focused on her as if trying to reach out and touch her thoughts, to understand the story behind her brief summary of events.

Every engagement had a story.

"What was his name?"

"James."

He nodded and glanced over at the clock. Rose followed his gaze to find it was creeping ever closer to midnight, but she didn't have to work tomorrow, so that didn't matter.

"I should let you sleep," the Doctor mumbled as he turned to slip off the bed.

Catching his arm before he had gotten too far, Rose swallowed hard, not sure what she could say to make him stay because she wasn't ready for him to go yet.

He stopped his attempted escape and stared at her hand on his arm before slowly raising his eyes to meet hers again.

"No?" he asked.

"No," she agreed, quietly.

He didn't offer to move again, staying near the edge of the bed with his feet not quite touching the floor.

Feeling perhaps a little braver for him staying, Rose inched closer, not sure where she was going with this. She knew he had a few hopes of where things would go, but he was being careful about forming any expectations.

Right now she just wanted him with her, even if it was just to hold her in his arms until they woke in the morning. How she'd missed him while she'd been away. That was almost more of a surprise than what she found herself doing next.

Sliding her palm up his arm and across his shoulder, she combed her fingers through his hair as she pressed her lips against his.

At first he tensed against her sudden shift in behavior, but his body quickly relaxed and his arms wrapped around her, one hand threading fingers through her hair as it tried to pull her closer to deepen the kiss.

When the both of them finally broke for breath, Rose smiled gently at him, whispering for him to stay.

The Doctor gazed at her intently, combing his fingers through her hair, apparently having as much difficulty trying to breathe as she was.

He cautiously bent forward and kissed her again, this time taking the lead and guiding her back toward the center of the bed, where they both knelt, holding one another. His hand on her lower back drifted lower and then disappeared seconds before she heard something rustling in his pocket just beside her hip.

Pulling away, he sat back on his heels and held up the little yellow package, his eyes begging her to believe in him.

Rose nodded, feeling a little unsure but willing to give it a try.

To show she meant it, she pulled her vest top over her head, wondering if it was a good idea or a bad idea to have accepted him so quickly.

Only time would tell.

Holding the edge of the wrapper in his teeth, the Doctor tugged off his t-shirt and moved his hands to the fastening of his trousers. He paused, and looked at her with an uneasy expression when he took the condom out of his mouth to talk.

"Are you sure?"

Of course he had to ask _that_. The three words that would make her doubt her decision, perhaps even regret it before she carried through. Was she sure?

"No," Rose breathed, shaking her head and pulling back from him.

The Doctor whispered softly, "We don't have to."

Heartbroken didn't even begin to describe the expression on his face. He looked broken, lost, hopeless even.

In a quiet voice he told her, "I would never force you to do anything. If you don't want to, we won't."

"But I do," Rose admitted. "I still do. I just…" She sat heavily back on the bed and leaned back. Her head dropped back against the headboard with a resigned thump. "I don't know."

The Doctor nodded in understanding as he inched closer and pressed his lips against hers. His touch was soft and unthreatening, and Rose found herself remembering their very first time and his telling her, "Just tell me to stop, and I will."

At least that had been a viable option up until he was inside, then nothing could have been done until he was finished. It was just how things worked, and he was more than apologetic about it, giving her ample time beforehand to back out if she wanted.

Only she didn't.

This time she wasn't going to either. It felt so right and so wrong at the same time. They were his lips, even if the temperature was off, too warm, and that was _definitely_ his tongue. No one she had ever been with had ever been able to do some of the things he did with his tongue.

When he pulled back, she apologized.

"I'm just being stupid," she declared with a half laugh.

"It's alright," he consoled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Don't ask me again, or I'll lose my nerve altogether."

"I won't, then," he agreed, before kissing her again.

_**to be continued…**_


	15. Planting the Seed

**Chapter Fourteen: Planting the Seed**

It was the ringing of a mobile that interrupted a very pleasant sleep.

The Doctor reached a hand out from under the comfortable haven of the duvet and picked up the offending object.

"Hello?" he answered groggily.

"Doctor?" Jackie asked with mild confusion. "Where's Rose?"

"What?" He pulled the phone from his ear and stared at it. The outline wasn't what he remembered. Putting it back to his ear, he said, "This isn't my phone, is it?"

Jackie laughed, "No. It isn't."

"It's Rose's, isn't it?"

"Yes. It is."

He let out an embarrassed laugh as he rolled over to face his companion, who sleepily lifted her head.

"Who is it?" Rose murmured, pushing the golden curtain of hair out of her face.

"Your mother." He passed her the phone and flopped his head back down.

Rose put the phone to her ear as she sank into her pillow. "Hello?"

The Doctor tried to let his exhausted mind take him back to unconsciousness, but every syllable Rose uttered jerked him rudely back to the reality before he could properly drift off.

"Everything's fine, Mum," Rose placated and paused for what was likely another round of questions before answering, "Yeah. We are."

Giving up on sleep, he propped his head up on his hand and gazed at her through drooping eyes. Even though the light coming through the window confirmed it was indeed morning, he wasn't ready to be awake just yet.

The conversation Rose was having with her mother was mostly one sided. Her mother was talking and she merely answered in short sentences.

He wasn't terribly interested in what Jackie was saying until Rose's eyebrows knitted together.

"No. I understand," she sighed. "Goodbye, Mum."

She ended the call and dropped it onto the bed before rubbing her face in frustration.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Mum's not coming home 'til tomorrow."

"Oh?"

He smirked and reached for her under the blankets, only to have his hands slapped away.

"Don't even think about it," she snapped.

Whatever else she was going to say was cut off by a little voice calling her name form the doorway.

"Come in, Tony."

The boy bounded across the bedroom floor and pounced on the bed. He-as it became apparent to the Doctor—was the reason Rose had been so insistent they put some clothing back on before they slept.

"When's Mummy coming home?" Tony asked.

"Mum's not going to be home until tomorrow."

"But I thought she was coming home today?"

"Change of plans," she explained simply. "You can call her if you want."

She fumbled in the rumpled duvet a few moments before she handed her brother her mobile.

He pressed two buttons and put it up to his ear.

"Mummy!" he chirped. "The Doctor slept in Rose's bed last night."

Rose slapped her palm to her face and sank down into the blankets.

"That isn't much of a surprise is it?" the Doctor asked, grinning at Rose while Tony nattered on to Jackie about the stories the Doctor had told him last night and playing football in the park.

Smiling at him, Rose rolled onto her side to look at the Doctor.

"Yeah," she laughed. "Not really a surprise."

Her cheeks flushed as she spoke and she hid her face with her hand in embarrassment. The Doctor couldn't help but think she looked adorable when she was flustered.

He didn't have much time to contemplate just how cute Rose was, because their charge had finished his phone call and was interested in getting on with the day.

"What's for breakfast?" Tony asked, bouncing on the bed.

"That's a good question," the Doctor laughed.

Sitting up, he tossed back the duvet and set his feet on the floor. There was no way he was ever going to have a chance to go back to sleep, and food sounded like a fantastic idea.

"Let's go figure that out."

*.*.*.*

After breakfast, it was agreed that they would spend the rest of the morning and part of the afternoon at the park. The Doctor shut his bedroom door and smirked at his bed. He hoped very much that Friday night was the very last time he would ever use it when he stayed at the mansion.

Picking up his bag, he dropped it on the edge of the bed and shifted through it for something appropriate to wear to the park. He hadn't washed the shorts and t-shirt he'd worn the other day, and they probably smelled like it.

After a few more moments consideration he decided upon a simple lightweight shirt and trousers. They were a little creased from being folded up and shoved in a bag, but they shook out well enough.

Finishing his outfit off with his comfortable pair of trainers, the Doctor wandered across the hall to the bathroom and checked his hair in the mirror.

He gave it a little fluff before checking on Rose.

Rose appeared in the doorway as he approached it.

His first thought upon seeing her was how beautiful she looked.

The second thought he had was that he really liked that denim miniskirt.

The third he only entertained for the briefest of moments, because he wouldn't get away with taking it off her in the presence of the little boy who'd just appeared around the corner with his football in hand.

"Okay, let's go," Tony said before dashing for the stairs.

The Doctor and Rose exchanged a smiled and a laugh.

"Shall we?" the Doctor asked, holding out his hand to her.

She happily took his proffered hand and walked with him after her brother.

"You look lovely," he told her, biting back the urge to suggest they stay in.

Last night may have gone well, but he wasn't sure he should risk another go just yet. Rose likely still had some doubts about his identity, even after everything that had happened in the past two weeks.

He supposed it was his fault, so he could suffer for it.

Not that going to the park sounded like a terrible alternative. He could like the park.

Football was quite a lot of fun.

*.*.*.*

Tony bolted ahead of them as soon as they made it to the park. His football hit the ground when he decided the swings looked like more fun.

The Doctor dropped Rose's hand as he stooped to pick it up. He exchanged a smile with her when he tucked it under his arm and walked with her toward the benches.

"Did you remember to bring your dinner jacket?" Rose asked.

"I have my suit," he told her helpfully.

Rose stopped in her tracks, her eyes wide with sudden realization.

"I didn't tell you to get a dinner jacket, did I?"

The Doctor paused as he tried to figure out where her train of thought was headed.

"You told him didn't you?"

Shutting her eyes, Rose took a long slow breath before informing him, "The wedding is black tie."

"Oh."

"I know Pete doesn't have a dinner jacket that will fit you," Rose sighed, pulling out her mobile.

With a sigh of his own, the Doctor shoved his hands in his pockets and turned to watch Tony swing higher and higher. Life without a TARDIS and an infinite wardrobe was not as easy as he thought it could be.

There were moments that massive room had come in handy.

"Mum?" Rose said into the phone. "Everything's fine. I just need a favour."

She went about explaining the predicament they found themselves in. Finding a tailor willing to fit a dinner jacket at such short notice on a Sunday afternoon was a little beyond him at the moment. His charisma could only get him so far.

He'd looked forward to tonight since he woke up this morning.

One thing he'd always enjoyed was taking Rose some place where she could dress up, even if he did it mostly for his own benefit.

He supposed he could clean up well enough with his suit. He was always good at blending in when he didn't actually fit in.

"Thank you, Mum," Rose said. "Yeah, I'll make sure he does."

She ended the call and shoved the phone back into her pocket before making her way over to the bench.

"Mum's got a tailor to come round in an hour."

"Really?"

Rose smiled and rolled her eyes. "Yeah."

*.*.*.*

The hour went by too quickly.

The Doctor had barely gotten Rose involved in a game of chase. They were running through the playground equipment screaming and laughing like little children. He'd caught her and had her pinned against a tree, ready to be mercilessly tickled when her phone rang and it was time for him to go back to the mansion.

There were so many other things he'd rather be doing than being fitted for a dinner jacket.

He was just pulling his key out of his pocket when a car pulled into the driveway behind him.

"You didn't tell me you were Rose Tyler's fiancé," a familiar voice called out.

"Fiancé?" he asked, turning around. "Who told you Rose was my fiancée?"

An elderly woman looked at him in amusement from where she stood beside the car. Her two assistants were unloading her supplies while she spoke.

When Rose said that her mother had rung a tailor, he hadn't expected it to be the very same Katrina who had helped him with his suit only a few days before.

"Dr. Smith, I received a friendly phone call from one Jacqueline Tyler regarding her scatterbrained future son-in-law. I arrive here and the man I meet is you. Pardon me for putting two and two together."

"Really?" He couldn't believe how own ears. "Jackie said that?"

"Why wouldn't she?" Katrina asked, seeming a little irritated by all the questions. "Come, come. Let's go inside and make you look resplendent."

"Yes, ma'am," he answered quickly.

He unlocked the door and led Katrina and her staff into the nearby parlor.

"Rose's fiancé?" he asked again, still unable to accept that Jackie had referred to him as that.

"Is that not correct?" Katrina asked, forcefully moving him to a different place on the carpet so she could measure him.

The Doctor stammered his reply, "I… We… I mean… I'm not her fiancé."

"Then why did she refer to you as her future son-in-law?" she laughed.

He shook his head.

Having him as a son-in-law would be the last thing he would expect Jackie Tyler to discuss. True they got along better after his regeneration, but they still weren't exactly close.

Then again she had been rather accepting of his answering Rose's phone that morning, as if it were to be expected that he was sleeping with her daughter.

Katrina handed her measuring tape over to one of her assistants and walked to the jackets that covered the settee. Knowingly shifting through then, she pulled one loose and held it up.

"Try this on."

Obediently taking it, the Doctor slipped away into the next room to put it on.

When he reappeared, Katrina descended upon him, pinching and pulling on the fabric. She clucked at a few times as she marked seams.

"You're too skinny," she chastised.

The Doctor took offense. "Oi! I am not."

"If you say so," she laughed, pinning the back of his trousers. "Alright, take it off."

He watched in mild fascination as her assistants when about unpacking a familiarly shaped machine and a rather amazing folding table.

"You brought a sewing machine?"

"Jackie said she wanted you to look presentable," Katrina explained simply, waving him back toward the other room. "Now get it off and bring it back. We're on a deadline."

After he'd returned the suit, she again shooed him, telling him she didn't need him hovering over her.

*.*.*.*

The Doctor had just stepped out the front door, when he spotted Rose and Tony coming back to the mansion, both of them looking a little worse for the wear. Tony must have kept his sister on the run well after he'd left them.

"Doctor!" Tony screeched, the cloud of exhaustion lifting long enough for him to sprint the distance to the house.

"Where did you go?" the boy asked, tugging on the Doctor's arm.

"Well," the Doctor laughed. "Your sister forgot to tell me I needed a dinner jacket tonight, so your mother rang a tailor for me."

Tony was pensive a moment before inquiring, "Do I need a dinner jacket too?"

Rose laughed as she walked up to them.

"No, Tony. You have a very nice black suit Mum bought you three months ago."

She ushered the two of them back into the mansion, reminding them both that Tony had promised to have a nap so he could go to the wedding with them that night. That information gained a heavy sigh from the boy, but no argument. Apparently Rose' had the same effect on him as she did on most every other man in her acquaintance, they couldn't tell her no.

His only request was for the Doctor to tell him a story before he went to sleep.

*.*.*.*

Rose carried three steaming mugs of tea into the parlour where Katrina and he assistants were busy at work resizing the Doctor's new dinner jacket to fit his long, narrow frame.

"You have no idea how grateful I am that you could come," Rose told Katrina, setting the mugs down on the coffee table.

She knew her mother would likely throw a fit that she didn't bring out one of the nice tea sets, but Rose never felt entirely comfortable with those. A comfortable mug held tea just as well as a china cup; it even held more tea.

That was one of the reasons she had Jackie let the staff have the weekend off. She'd rather have a quiet house than trying to remember just who was in the kitchen rattling glasses or pots and pans. The fewer people she had to keep track of, the better.

Katrina didn't seem to care that she was offered a well-loved blue mug and not a flowered china cup. She took a sip and went back to work.

"It's no problem, dear," she answered Rose.

"I should have reminded him," Rose murmured, leaning against the doorframe.

Her remark gained her a laugh from Katrina.

"At least he has you to keep him on the straight and narrow. I can see him getting himself into mischief being so scatter minded," she said.

"Perhaps." Rose smiled. "He has always been good at finding trouble."

"If you don't mind my asking," Katrina began. "Are you and he engaged?"

"No."

Rose wondered where that idea had come from. Tony assumed they were married and others assumed they were engaged, just as everyone had always assumed they were a couple even before they were.

Was there some message everyone else was getting that they were missing out on?

"Why?" Rose asked, hoping perhaps someone would answer that question for her.

"When I spoke with your mother, she called Dr. Smith her future-son-in law, so I assumed that meant you were his fiancée, but apparently that isn't the case as both you and he state there is no such agreement between you."

"Of all the times my mother could decide she wants him for a son-in-law, it has to be now," Rose laughed. "Maybe some day."

"You two work," Katrina told her. "I've gotten to know plenty of couples in my line of work, and I am quite sure you two could make a life together. Not to mention, he adores you."

"Yeah?"

"Yes."

Rose bit her lip to keep from smiling too broadly. It was nice hearing it, even if it wasn't from him.

"Done," Katrina announced proudly as she pulled away from the machine. "Why don't you go get him, so he can try this on."

*.*.*.*

The jog up the stairs took more out of Rose than she would have liked to admit, though she wasn't quite sure it was the exercise that had her heart beating so quickly.

Rounding the corner, she stopped outside the door of Tony's room when she heard the Doctor's voice.

"Then a huge shadow fell over them," the Doctor said dramatically.

Tony gasped, "Was it going to eat them?"

"Of course not," the Doctor laughed. "He just wanted to invite them to his birthday party."

Rose giggled, remember that particular incident. It was a strange party as well.

She crept forward and peeking into the room to watch the Doctor smile down at the little boy and ruffle his hair.

"Now go to sleep before we're both in trouble."

"Okay."

When the Doctor rose to his feet and headed for the door, Rose slipped back against the wall, and then wondered at herself for being so devious. Why was she afraid for either of them to see her?

"Doctor," Tony asked before the Doctor had made it to the door.

"Yes, Tony?"

"Will you tell me another story about Poppy and Ian tonight?"

The Doctor chuckled, "Of course."

Rose was standing there grinning at him when he shut her brother's door.

"And to what do I owe the honour of your presence?" he asked playfully, leaning in close enough to breathe her in, his warm breath tickling her ear as he nuzzled her, his hands eagerly seeking the skin beneath her top.

Wanting nothing more than to let him continue his exploration, and to give into everything that his touch promised, Rose reluctantly grabbed hold of his wrists and hauled his hands way from her body.

"Katrina wants you to try it on to be sure it fits."

"I'm sure it does," he whispered, undaunted.

"Doctor," Rose hissed.

He stepped back and his shoulders stooped in a sulk, but he obediently returned to the steps and to the woman who was kindly taking time out of her day to come to him and tailor a dinner jacket.

*.*.*.*

The Doctor had never been more pleased to see someone leave; though, he was a little disappointed to turn around and find Rose was no longer there.

That wasn't fair.

He stalked across the floor when he heard he sound of dishes in the kitchen.

The house hadn't ever been crossed as fast as when he appeared behind Rose as if from thin air.

"Would you be willing to pick up where we left off?" he asked, hopefully.

His fingers had decided to hope for the best and were creeping up beneath the hem of her top, hoping they wouldn't be pulled away so harshly.

Rose laughed and shrugged him off as she shut the dishwasher.

"You know, it would be a better idea to rest before tonight," she told him, turning around to lean against the worktop. "Jess knows how to throw a good party."

"Actually I have an idea I would like to explore," the Doctor said with an ornery grin.

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his last condom, slapping it down on the countertop beside her.

"Oh?" Rose asked playfully. "And what is this idea of yours?"

"Well it goes a little something like this," he said.

With one swift move, he lifted Rose up and deposited her on the worktop, saying, "I'd like to try this standing, if you don't mind."

"That's definitely a chat up line I haven't heard," she teased. "What sparked this idea?"

"Upstairs," he said, sliding his hands beneath her skirt. "I realized we have a greater range of positions we can try now, and this is one I have always been curious about."

Rose laughed and pulled him into a tight hug as he shifted her hips toward him. She wanted to tell him just how silly she thought he was and just how much she loved him, but she couldn't find the words, so she settled for pressing soft kisses to his temple.

It had been a strange ride the past few weeks, and she couldn't help but ponder on the tailor's comments. It was one thing being married to the Doctor according to some tribal ceremonies that involved the threat of death if they didn't observe the customs.

Being married to him in this world was so much more real.

Maybe it was because she wouldn't believe she was really married to him until her mother knew she was, and she never knew about the other ones. Even when Rose came clean about her relationship with the Doctor, she never told her mother about the weddings.

And of course if she were to marry the Doctor in this world, her mother would want to plan a fantastic wedding with anything and everything Rose had ever wanted, or at the very least everything Jackie thought Rose could ever want.

"Is that okay?" the Doctor asked, his voice unsure as he pulled his hands away from their brave exploration of her thighs.

It wasn't like he was thinking about marriage, she thought. He was just interested in enjoying the physical pleasures of her company.

That never changed.

As much as he argued about his superiority, a bloke was just a bloke, alien or no.

"Yeah, that's fine," she smiled.

She was getting ahead of herself. They were just beginning to forge a new path for themselves, one that definitely involved being together, but marriage could wait.

They could just test out this new relationship one step at a time.

The Doctor moved his hands again, and Rose found all her other thoughts and worries fade way.

All that mattered was that moment, and she planned to enjoy it as long as it lasted.

_**To be continued…**_

A/N: I am sorry it took so long for me to get this chapter finished. I was swamped with my final two lectures for my degree. I would say that I now have plenty of time to finish the next and final chapter, but that is not the case. Never the less, I am giving myself until I leave for DC on Sunday to finish it, as I am not sure how trusty my internet connection will be, and I will likely only be taking my little netbook. So, with luck, you can look for the final chapter and possibly a short epilogue by Saturday.


	16. A New Beginning

**Chapter Fifteen: A New Beginning**

The Doctor longingly stared at the bed, wishing so much to be able to crawl into it and shut his eyes.

As much as he hated to admit it, Rose had been right in saying they should have rested, but he wasn't going to complain. Sex in the kitchen wasn't a bad alternative to a nap, and he could sleep as long as he wanted tomorrow, or at least as long as Tony decided to let them sleep.

He fussed with his tie a few more times before Rose came over and settled it for him, completely undoing it before she tied it neatly in one try.

"Thank you," the Doctor murmured.

Rose just smiled and went back into her en suite bathroom to finish styling her hair.

She'd curled it and was twisting it up in the back so the curls hung loose, or at least that was what she was attempting to do, but she was having a difficult time of it.

Deciding he could also be useful, the Doctor picked up a small handful of kirby grips and helped with her hairstyle.

Between the two of them, they managed to get her hair up into an attractive style without too much difficulty, both laughing and reminiscing about how he used to assist her with more daring styles when they were aboard the TARDIS.

"Oh! To you remember the Fletotian ball?" Rose laughed, picking up her lipstick.

The Doctor grinned, "That pink dye took weeks to wash out."

"I know."

Rose beamed at him before returning to her task of makeup application.

The Doctor wasn't terribly fond of all the products she wore on her face, but he knew it was the custom of the time period, and customs were to be respected when reasonable.

"Perhaps you should go wake Tony," she suggested.

He nodded in agreement and bent down to drop a few soft kisses on the nape of her neck. This was rewarded with a happy sigh and Rose turning round to press her lips to his.

Hands bravely venturing down her sides, the Doctor was pleased by the fact she hadn't donned her dress just yet and was merely clad in her undergarments. How he longed to simply spend the evening touching her.

"Doctor," Rose reminded. "Tony."

"Hmm," he hummed against her mouth. "In a moment."

Laughing, she finally had to push him away, telling him, "Go get my brother dressed."

Trying his very best not to appear to sulk, the Doctor grudgingly agreed, though he did manage to get another kiss before he left Rose's room.

*.*.*.*

Tony was grumpy when the Doctor got him out of bed.

The Doctor had a feeling that was why she'd volunteered him to wake the boy up. She didn't want to be grumbled at again.

It took the mentioning of wedding cake before Tony was willing to crawl out from under his covers. The little boy's grunts reminded him very much of the other Tyler he knew so well. She used to make exactly the same sorts of noises when he'd drag her out of bed before she was ready.

He wondered if it was a human sound or simply a Tyler sound.

Though still a little groggy, Tony was willing to acquiesce to putting on his suit. His only complaint was his shoes. He claimed his nice black ones hurt his feet.

To solve that problem, the Doctor sifted through the boy's wardrobe until he came upon a nice looking pair of black trainers, much like the ones he'd have preferred to have worn, but Rose had refused to let him out in.

She said it was one thing when they were traveling the universe. It was entirely different when they were with people she saw everyday. The last thing she wanted to hear was people talking about his shoes.

Though, the Doctor saw little problem for Tony to wear them.

Sometimes it seemed children got all the breaks.

Within a few short minutes they were able to make it down stairs to wait for the car that was coming round to pick them up.

"Isn't Rose finished yet?" Tony asked, bouncing impatiently on his rubber heels.

"She'll be down soon enough," the Doctor consoled, though he was just as itchy to get on with the evening as his little shadow.

They didn't wait long.

Shutting off the upstairs lights, Rose appeared at the top of the stairs, a ghostly silhouette.

The Doctor's breath caught in his throat as she walked down the stairs and into the light. The dress she'd worn on their date had nothing on this one. Not only did it sweep and cling to her toned curves, the bodice was cut low and showed ample skin without being provocative.

The hair, the dress, and the jewelry all attested to Rose's identity as the heiress to the Tyler fortune.

She was simply gorgeous.

"It's just a dress," she laughed, walking toward the door.

Her timing was perfect as the car pulled up to the door nearly at the same moment she opened it.

"You look very pretty, Rose," Tony told her as he latched onto her hand while they walked out.

She smiled, "Thank you."

*.*.*.*

It took half the car ride before the Doctor was able to find his tongue and speak something that seemed like a coherent sentence; though his eyes tended to drift lower than Rose's face while he was talking to her, which gained him more than one eye roll.

"So, are Jess and Steve going to get a baby now that they are going to be married?" Tony asked.

Rose laughed. "I don't know. They might."

"But isn't that how it works?" Tony asked. "You get married and then you get a baby."

"Sometimes, yeah," she agreed smiling.

She wondered about the reasoning behind his logic, but she also knew that six-year-olds didn't require the solid reasoning adults relied on. The smallest scrap of evidence would do to support their theories.

"'Cos cousin Moe had a baby after she married Richard. And then Freddy's girlfriend, Sharon, had a baby after he propose."

"So does that mean, if Rose and I ever get married, we're supposed to have a baby?" the Doctor asked, sitting forward on the edge of his seat, looking as if he were hanging on the boy's every word.

The wink he gave Rose told her he was just letting her brother prattle on. There was no reason to dissuade a child's logic at such an early stage.

It would all be explained to him when he was older anyway.

Tony pondered the Doctor's question for a moment before answering, "I guess you can, if Rose wants one, but you have to wait for it to grow in her belly. That can take months."

Rose couldn't help but smile when her brother qualified his answer by explaining that he assumed it would always be her choice.

The Doctor grinned back her, looking pleased as punch, and she wondered just what he was thinking.

Unfortunately, there was no time to ask, as the car had stopped and the driver was already opening the door for them.

*.*.*.*

Rose and her workmates gushed over their dresses for a few brief moments after they greeted one another.

It was rare for them to see each other so dressed up, which was part of Jess's reason for having such a formal wedding, or so Rose had assumed.

"He definitely cleans up well," Meghan said, eyeing the Doctor as he stood waiting for Rose to disentangle herself from her friends. "Is that your brother on his arm, Rose?"

"Yeah," Rose laughed. "Mum's out of town and we've been babysitting."

She smiled at the Doctor before turning back to Meghan and Stephanie to tell them about the childcare arrangement for the weekend.

Her conversation with them didn't last terribly long. Eventually, everyone was moved into the ballroom and sat down in the rows of chairs that had been provided for the occasion.

"I'd have a chuppah," the Doctor whispered in Rose's ear, as he pointed to the where the priest and the groom stood, waiting for the bride to appear. "One with a design, I think. Just there."

"A hoopa?" Rose asked.

"Chuppah," the Doctor corrected. "Hebrew. Semitic language. Needs that bit of rattle in the back of your throat."

"But what does that have to do with anything?" she hissed.

"I'm just saying I would have a chuppah," he clarified. "I like chuppahs. Very nice element for any wedding."

Rose rolled her eyes and turned to watch Jess walk down the aisle, ignoring any further comments from her date.

*.*.*.*

"Rose, have I ever told you how much I love weddings?" the Doctor gushed, for the umpteenth time that evening.

With a laugh, Rose rolled her eyes at him again, thinking he might have had one too many glasses of champagne already, and they hadn't even cut the cake yet.

"Yeah, you've told me," she smiled.

"Funny thing, weddings," he laughed. "All they are is the formalization of breeding pairs. You know, there are plenty of planets that don't even have a ceremony. Simply mating is enough to constitute a marriage."

Trying to be inconspicuous, Rose pushed his champagne away from him and replaced it with a glass of water as he rattled on.

"Then there are the planets where they don't even mate for the day, let alone for life. I suppose that would be one of the best things about being married… the mating. Always been a fan myself."

"Doctor," she said forcefully, worrying about where that line of thought was likely headed.

"Hmm?"

She shot a glance at her brother who was listening intently to every word his idol was saying.

The Doctor's eyes widened in realization

"Right. The best thing about weddings is cake. Definitely cake."

He took a long, embarrassed drink of his water, his cheeks tinged with pink.

"I like cake," Tony said. "Chocolate cake is the best."

Swallowing his mouthful of water, the Doctor shook his head and argued against the boy's statement.

"Banana. Definitely banana."

Rose laughed, "No, I think I have to agree with Tony on that one. Chocolate is best."

The Doctor looked devastated.

"But…"

An ornery grin spread across her face. She wasn't sure how far she wanted to go with this, but it was fun watching him pout.

"What?" she asked. "Do you want a banana wedding cake?"

"I'm not opposed to it."

"A chuppah and a banana cake," Rose teased. "You got a dress picked out too?"

The Doctor beamed at her, his expression daring her to ask again, but Rose just laughed and refused to take the bait.

She picked up her own glass of champagne and took a sip, knowing the cake would be cut any time now.

*.*.*.*

Somehow in the course of the evening, the Doctor had managed to introduce himself to nearly everyone in the building, or at the very least learn who most of the guests were.

"You see those two over there," he said, gesturing toward an elderly couple near the head table. "Those are Jess's grandparents. They've been married fifty years."

"That's a long time," Rose said.

"Not really. Barely more than a blink of an eye in the scheme of things. The universe is billions of years old. I'm nearly-"

"As ancient," she teased.

Wrinkling his mouth in disgust, he turned away to look at the couple again. Rose couldn't help but notice the upturn of his lips. He was obviously not as insulted as he would like to make her think.

Rose apologized, "Sorry. I didn't realize your age was such a sore topic. I'll try to keep from mentioning your 1000th birthday when it rolls around."

He grinned back at her.

"When is my birthday, anyway? I have to have one. It's part of the human identity package, isn't it?"

"The 18th of June," she told him, rolling her eyes.

He thought about it for a moment.

"Not bad. Same date as Winston Churchill's 'Finest Hour' speech. Any particular reason for that date?"

"It was the day we did the paperwork. He couldn't decide, so we just went with the current date and decided on an age."

"And that is?"

"You're thirty-four, Doctor."

"Thirty-four…"

Eyebrows knitting together, he looked pensively over at Jess's grandparents again. If there really were gears in his head, Rose was sure she would have been able to hear them cranking away before he opened his mouth again.

"I think we could make it to fifty years."

Rose raised an eyebrow and stared at him like he'd just grown a second head. She was still staring at him like that when he turned around a few moments later.

"What?" the Doctor asked.

He was answered with a deep sigh and an eye roll before Rose actually spoke.

"I know you have had a difficult few weeks, with the regeneration and the body swap and God knows what else, but sometimes you are so thick."

"I don't understand."

"Doctor," she began. "I don't know how it worked on Gallifrey, but here on earth when a man decides he is going to marry a woman, he usually asks her. It's called a proposal, and I can't recall that ever happening."

He stood, mouth agape, staring at her, just as flabbergasted as she had been only a few moments before.

Snapping his mouth, shut he shook his head, perhaps trying to clear his thoughts.

"Right," he said quickly. "Rose Tyler…" He stopped. "I'm supposed to do this on my knees, aren't I?"

The Doctor dropped to one knee, and Rose felt her heart nearly stop from the surprise.

Sure they'd already technically been married multiple times, but nearly every one of the ceremonies had basically been foisted upon them in some form or fashion. She'd definitely never expected to have him on his knees asking her to marry him without the threat of death looming over them.

And she had been alright with that.

"You know that's a hold over from chivalric romance, the kneeling. The knight was at the mercy of his lady, because in the courtly-"

"Doctor," Rose said to get him back on topic.

She couldn't help but smile at him as he remembered what he was doing. He'd managed to take hold of her hand and don his most appealing expression.

He opened his mouth for a split second before shutting it again and knitting his eyebrows together.

"I'm supposed to have ring, aren't I?" He sighed. "I'm not very good at this. Then again I haven't done this before." He paused. "Well, maybe once… but that doesn't exactly count. Different time period, different customs… you know."

Rose laughed at him. He looked so adorable when he was flummoxed, but as much as she enjoyed his attention, she didn't like the fact that his kneeling before her was creating a spectacle.

"Not meaning to break the moment or anything," she said finally. "But if you're going to ask me to marry you, now would be a good time, before all of Jess and Steve's guests are sure to be watching us."

"Right," agreed and cleared his throat. "Rose Tyler, would be my wife? If I was ever going to be married to someone for most of her life, I'd like that person to be you."

"You're an idiot," she laughed.

"Is that a yes?" he asked cautiously.

"Yeah," Rose grinned.

With an exuberant smile, he swept her into an enthusiastic embrace, her feet coming up off the ground in his excitement.

"Why are you on about weddings all of a sudden?" Rose asked as her feet touched back down on the ground. "That's been the only thing you've talked about all evening."

"Well, you know what they say, 'Going to one wedding brings on another'."

"Oh, shut up," Rose laughed, grabbing the sides of his face and kissing him, just to be sure he did as he was told.

The kiss gained them both a loud cheer from those who had witnessed the proposal.

Closing her eyes and shaking her head, Rose smiled. It was impossible to keep anything secret at Torchwood, so she shouldn't even try. It would be the talk of the office tomorrow morning.

"I suppose this means I need to get you a ring?" the Doctor asked. "Because that is how it works, right?"

"Something like that," she answered, unable to stop smiling.

It had definitely been a strange two weeks.

*.*.*.*

Unfortunately, there was no way for the party to last into the late hours. Because the curfew was so strictly enforced, no one complained, they only wished the wedding could have been held just a little earlier in the day.

When it came time for the final send off of the bride and groom, Jess grabbed Rose and pulled her aside.

"Is it true that the Doctor finally proposed to you?" she hissed, glancing around to be sure no one was listening.

"Oh good lord," Rose groused. "Everyone in Torchwood is going to know about this tomorrow."

"So he did!" Jess exclaimed. "Please tell me you said yes. I know you've had your share of difficulties, but you two are so perfect for each other."

Rose rolled her eyes. She'd heard that from Jake, Jess, and Mitch for the past two years, even after she and the duplicate had explained that there was nothing between them.

"I need to have him transferred," she answered finally. "But, yes, I did."

Jess threw wrapped Rose in a tight hug before telling her that she wanted all the details when she got back.

The Doctor slipped his hand in hers as they waved their friends off and wished them luck. When the car had finally pulled away, he bent down and whispered in her ear.

"You don't have to marry me if you don't want to."

He looked like a puppy waiting for the kick he knew was coming, but still hoping he might get a loving pat instead.

Rose smiled at him and hugged his arm as they walked back into the ballroom for Tony.

"We've already been married seventeen times. What difference would one more make?"

The happy expression of relief on his face was almost heartbreaking. She wanted nothing more than to pull him into a hug and tell him that she still adored him, but she didn't get a chance.

The Doctor gave her hand a friendly squeeze before dropping it and walking over to the table where Tony was.

Her brother had apparently fallen asleep, as his little ginger head was laying on his napkin and there was definitely dribble coming out of his mouth. He didn't even stir when the Doctor scooped him up and carried him back over to her.

"Shall we?" he asked.

"Yeah."

How deftly the Doctor carried the sleeping boy got Rose thinking about the events of the night.

If they did marry, there was likely a house in their future, or at the very least a mortgage. Considering how badly he'd reacted to the prospect years ago on Krop Tor, Rose wasn't sure if he would willingly handle it here in this world.

A house with carpets and doors and windows had definitely been more of a nightmare than a dream of his.

If that sort of domesticity unnerved him, she couldn't even begin to imagine what he would do if they ended up having a child of their own. Then again, he was always good with children. His weekend with Tony was evidence of that.

As they climbed into the car that would take them back to the mansion, the Doctor smiled at her and she decided she could discuss all that with him tomorrow.

They had plenty of time to work things out between them.

*.*.*.*

The Doctor shut off Tony's bedroom light, his eyes never leaving the boy even when the darkness made it impossible to see him clearly.

He'd thought about the possibility of having children once or twice. Perhaps the fancy crossed his mind a few more times with Rose onboard, especially after they had taken that next step and become lovers, but that was all it had been, a passing fancy, nothing he could have realistically considered. Now he had twenty years before the TARDIS would be mature. That was more than long enough to raise a few children to adolescence. A familiar hand laced its fingers with his as a warm head leaned against his shoulder.

"Wanting one of your own?" Rose's voice whispered beside him.

One look down at the expression on her face had him assuming she was thinking the same thing, though he wasn't sure.

It might have just have been wishful thinking on his part.

That faraway look in her eyes could just be her thinking about breakfast, or any number of future possibilities that didn't include marriage or children. It wasn't completely absurd for him to be hopeful that she might be open to the idea. After her initial upset over the incident more than a week ago-when she still didn't trust his identity-she hadn't seem as distraught as she could have been, and part of him still counted that as a promising sign. Maybe there was possibility in that.

"Come on. Let's go to bed," she told him, tugging him down the hallway behind her. "We can discuss weddings and babies in the morning."

He couldn't help but smile incandescently at her. There was a certain mischievous spark in her eye that told him they might be on their way to bed, but they wouldn't be sleeping quite yet. It had been a long time since he'd seen that expression, and he hoped to see more of it.

The past two weeks had taught him this human life was not going to be easy, but he looked forward to every joyful and agonizing minute of it. As long as it was with Rose, he could bear most anything.


	17. Epilogue: Planning the Future

**Epilogue: Planning the Future**

Jackie was more than happy to be home when she finally walked through her door. As much as she loved going on holiday, she hated the traveling to and from.

Sometimes she wished she had her own TARDIS. To be able to disappear in one place and reappear in another would make traveling so much easier than the long plane flights.

No amount of guest service on her own private jet or zeppelin was enough to make up for the cramped confines of being relegated to one seat for hours. She never realized how much she enjoyed being able to walk around until she wasn't allowed to.

At the very least, she never had to lug her own bags around any longer.

The butler met them at the car and was already unloading the suitcases from the boot when she climbed out.

"Did you have a good trip, ma'am?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied. "Did you?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Jackie smiled.

She still enjoyed being treated like a princess, even if her daughter didn't.

On that thought, she wondered how her children had gotten along without her. Knowing Harrison, the butler, knew what he was doing, she walked into the mansion and went directly for the stairs.

Tony was the first one she checked in on.

She was surprised to find him still sleeping soundly, but she assumed he must have had an exciting night attending that wedding with the Doctor and Rose.

Quietly crossing the landing to the other hallway, she noticed the door to the Doctor's room was open and his bed looked undisturbed. He was usually a rather neat houseguest, but she had a feeling the bed hadn't been used.

When she stopped in front of Rose's door, she found it almost closed, though there was still a crack through which she could hear voices.

"I'm not saying we have to," the Doctor said quietly. "I am just saying it is an option we have."

"But do you really want children?" Rose asked. "After all your ranting about not doing domestic, I thought…"

"No, I'd love to have children," he gushed.

Conscience told Jackie to leave them, but curiosity got the better of her and she peered into the door so she could have a visual on them while she eavesdropped.

The Doctor and Rose were lying in bed facing one another, so close that they were sharing the same pillow and their foreheads nearly touched. He was running his fingers through her hair as he continued speaking to her.

Pure love and adoration were evident in his eyes.

"We just couldn't before. It wasn't safe, remember."

"Yeah, I know. The 'it could kill you' reason having to do with living in a time machine."

He laughed, "More or less."

Rose sat up and stared down at him. She was wearing a vest top that didn't quite fit her right, so Jackie could only assume it belonged to the Doctor.

That, coupled with the clothing scattered about the floor, confirmed her suspicions, but she was beyond the desire to chastise her daughter. She no longer saw Rose's relationship with the Doctor as yet another in a line of poor choices: in fact, she was willing to encourage it, if only to get more smiles out of Rose.

The Doctor may have done more than one idiotic thing, but she couldn't deny his love for her daughter.

She just wanted them to be happy together.

Whatever that entailed.

If they married and had a family, so be it.

Jackie tried to slip away unnoticed and leave them to their conversation. It didn't feel right listening in on something so seemingly important as her possible grandchildren being planned.

Unfortunately the movement of the door must have caught Rose's eye because she gasped, "Mum?"

Popping her head back in, Jackie opened her mouth to apologize, but the Doctor had bolted from under the covers and was trying to come up with some excuse as to why he was in Rose's room; though, none of what he said made much sense.

"Relax," Jackie told him when she finally got a word in. "I'm not shouting. You're fine. Get back in bed. I'm leaving. I just wanted to see that you two were alright."

The Doctor jumped back into Rose's bed and pulled the duvet up to his chest. His cheeks were flushed and he had the expression of a child having been caught doing something he shouldn't have been and knowing he should be scolded.

"I'll talk to you later when you two are dressed," Jackie laughed and shut the bedroom door.

She hoped everything would work out between them.

Rose had had enough years being unhappy, and Jackie hated to admit it, but she did hope she could look forward to having grandchildren.

Behind the closed door, she heard giggling and whispers.

It was going to be a while before she saw them.

THE END

A/N: I hope you enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. I have a few other projects I need to finish, but I will say now that there is a plan for a sequel to this.

I will also say that there may be a few shot one-shots that take place before the sequel, so keep your eyes peeled.


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